


Mnemosyne's Lock

by VR_Trakowski



Category: Iron Man (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-11
Updated: 2012-10-10
Packaged: 2017-11-16 01:53:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 44,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/534171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VR_Trakowski/pseuds/VR_Trakowski
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Pepper who's hurt, but it's Tony who needs the comfort...  </p><p>Written after Iron Man; now AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Most of the characters and situations in this story belong to Marvel Comics, Fairview Entertainment, Dark Blades Films, and other entities, and I do not have permission to borrow them. All others are mine, and if you want to borrow them, you have to ask me first. No infringement is intended in any way, and this story is not for profit. Any errors are mine, all mine, no you can't have any.
> 
> This stems from a prompt from Cincoflex, though I didn't exactly stick to her original scenario. I know it's a cliché, and it would have been more original to do it the other way 'round, but I couldn't resist the possibilities.  
> Note: I am pretty much talking out of my hat when it comes to certain medical aspects of this story. Call it dramatic license. But then, this is based on a comic-book universe in the end...a little exaggeration is NOTHING. 
> 
> Editing, banner, support, and general cheering on all by Cincoflex, who put up with angst and whining and distraction and saw this one through. Thank you, my dear. 
> 
> Additional note: Steve Abshire is a real musician, and an excellent one. If you like jazz, check him out.

 

Everything hurt, and Pepper didn't want to wake. The voices wouldn't shut up, though.

They had been speaking a long time, she realized hazily, though not necessarily to her; one calm and cool, one strained with anger and what sounded like fear. But she couldn't make out why, because fear didn't fit the face that went with the voice.

Eventually she managed to pry her eyes open. They hurt too, stinging with blurring tears, but the white unfamiliarity beyond the end of her nose resolved at last into a hospital room.

_Hospital?_

The voices droned on. She was lying on her back, Pepper realized, and tried to make sense of the two figures standing at the end of the bed. One was someone she didn't know, wearing more white--a doctor, she presumed. The other was her boss.

"Mr. Stark?" she started to say, but her throat wouldn't let her. Coughing made flame lick up from her lungs.

There was confusion, urgent orders, professional hands helping her to sit up to ease the spasms. That helped, but made her head pound like it was going to explode out her ears. Her mouth tasted horrible, her chest ached, and her ears were ringing. The IV made her arm feel funny, and not in a good way.

"Here." The babble finally resolved into words, and the doctor was offering her a cup of water. Pepper reached for it, but her hand wouldn't steady, and the woman had to help it to her lips.

She drank cautiously, but the water was soothing; her throat didn't feel quite so sandblasted after it was gone. The doctor eased her back against the now-raised head of the bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Like hell," Pepper mumbled, too dizzy to be circumspect. Her eyes drifted to the rigid form of her boss, standing to one side of the bed. He looked fierce, as though someone had really pissed him off lately, and his hair was a mess. Pepper wondered what had happened and how much spin control she was going to have to exercise.

Tony frowned at her, as if waiting for something, but Pepper didn't quite have the energy to figure out why he was even there. She answered the doctor's questions as best she could, endured the penlight in her eyes even though it made the headache worse, and was finally allowed to relax. It was hard to concentrate over the pain in her skull, but she made out words like "concussion" and "bruising" before she had to close her eyes.

The hand wrapping around hers made them open again, though. Her boss had pulled up a chair next to her bed and was apparently settling in, which only deepened Pepper's confusion. His fingers were hot against her skin, and he was squeezing a bit too hard.

"What happened?" she muttered, trying half-heartedly to pull her hand away; his grip was weirding her out.

He didn't let go; his brows drew together and he looked hurt. "You don't remember?"

Pepper closed her eyes, exhausted, and heard him sigh. "You were jogging on the cliff path this morning. It gave way and you fell down to the beach."

His words were, to pardon the pun, stark, a recitation of facts. Facts that made no sense at all, because while Pepper knew the path--it ran from his house to the edge of his property--she did most of her running on her treadmill at home, and certainly not on her boss' private trails.

"No," she said faintly, but everything was fading as sleep dragged her down. The last thing she felt was an odd warmth on the back of the hand he was holding.

* * *

Waking was easier the second time. Her body still ached, but the IV was gone and Pepper felt much more clearheaded. She sat up slowly, feeling very scraped and stiff, but the headache was bearable.

_Private room. I wonder where my clothes are?_

The first order of business was the bathroom, and Pepper made her way on shaky legs to the little cubicle. When she came back out, there was a nurse standing by her bed. The big man, whose scrubs bore a pattern of multicolored frogs, smiled cheerfully.

"You're obviously feeling better this morning, Ms. Potts. Why don't you get back in bed and I'll bring you some breakfast?"

"Okay." Food sounded very good, in fact. Pepper settled back under the sheet, thumbing the head of the bed up so that she could sit comfortably. The nurse, whose badge read "Carlos", checked her vital signs with quick skill.

"The doctor will be by shortly to take a look at you," he told her. Pepper looked up at him.

"Um...can you tell me what's wrong with me? Nobody said so when I woke up."

He laughed sympathetically. "They forgot the important stuff, huh? You have a mild concussion and a lot of bruises; apparently you took quite a tumble. There was a little concern with water in your lungs, but that seems to have cleared up."

"Water?" Pepper asked, frowning. "What water?"

Carlos patted her arm. "Couldn't tell you--you can ask the doctor. Don't worry if your memory is a bit hazy, shock can do that to a person." He straightened. "You just take it easy, and I'll see about that breakfast."

Pepper didn't see that she had much _choice_ \--she wasn't about to go wandering around a hospital in bare feet and a patient gown. But she was hungry too, so she composed herself to wait, trying to remember what had happened.

 _Did I dream Tony being here? I must have. None of that makes any sense._ She let the idea go with mingled relief and regret. Her boss was a very attractive, intriguing, sexy male, but his lifestyle was an extravagant disaster and Pepper knew to stay well clear of it. Besides, she seemed to remember him telling her something that made no sense, which made it all the more likely that he'd been a dream.

The last thing she could remember, really, was leaving the office the day before, driving home with little more than dinner and a bubble bath on her mind. It had been another twelve-hour day, but the bonus to working late was that she missed the evening traffic.

The fact that she couldn't remember anything later than that was somewhat chilling. _Oh, relax. It's probably just what he said. You fell, hit your head, and it scrambled your brains a little._

_...Water in my lungs?_

That might explain why her chest hurt. Frowning, Pepper hooked a finger in the collar of her gown and pulled it out to look down. There was a dark bruise just over her sternum, and it made her shiver. "What the hell happened?" she murmured, but there was no one there to answer.

The doctor arrived before Pepper had found the rest of her bruises. It was the same woman as before, exuding calm, her hair tucked away under a khimar. "Good morning, Virginia, glad to see you're feeling better. I'm Doctor Phair."

"Hello," Pepper replied cautiously. It was a little unnerving to be greeted by people as though they all knew her, though she was aware that it was just the medical style.

Doctor Phair's examination was more thorough than Carlos', but she made approving noises throughout. "You're healing nicely, and your lungs are clear. How's your vision?"

"Fine," Pepper said, telling the truth. "My head hurts, but not too much."

"Good. We'll get you an analgesic for that."

Pepper nodded. "What happened to me? I can't remember."

The doctor opened her hands. "I only know what I was told when you were brought in--a fall compounded by water inhalation. I don't know the circumstances."

"Nngh." Pepper rubbed her temple. "I don't _like_ not remembering."

Phair smiled understandingly. "I realize that, but don't stress about it. You may get the memory back in a few days, or it may never return--this kind of minor trauma can cause a memory hiccup. It's fairly common and not something to worry about, strange as it may sound." She tucked her stethoscope into her jacket pocket. "Pushing can actually make a memory harder to recover; if you let it alone, it may come back sooner."

Pepper sighed. "All right, I'll try."

"Good," the doctor repeated, still smiling. "You'll probably want over-the-counter painkillers for a couple of days, and you'll need to take it easy--at least two days off work, all right?" Phair raised an admonishing eyebrow. "Listen to your body."

Pepper relaxed somewhat at the good report, though she wasn't sure just how long she'd be willing to stay home and do nothing. For one thing, she bored quickly; for another, she could just imagine the chaos Tony would get into without her there to keep an eye on him. "Does this mean I can go home?"

"As soon as you have breakfast. I'll get the paperwork started but it will probably be a couple of hours. Plenty of time for your ride to get here." Phair scribbled something on the chart at the end of Pepper's bed. "The nurses can get you your personal effects."

She took her leave, and shortly thereafter Carlos brought in ibuprofen and a rather unappetizing breakfast and promised to find Pepper's clothes. Pepper forced down the watery scrambled eggs and nibbled on the cold toast, wondering how she'd ended up at the hospital in the first place. _An ambulance, I guess._

She hadn't pointed out to the doctor that she had no one to come and give her a ride; Pepper really didn't want to stay in the hospital a minute longer than she had to, and she wasn't entirely sure that Phair would release her if the doctor knew she was going home alone.

 _I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself._ Pepper wondered if she could call a cab from the nurses' station. She never went running without I.D. and a credit card, just in case. _There has to be an ATM somewhere in this building._

She wasn't surprised at the luxury of a private room. Stark Industries had very good health insurance, and Pepper had the executive package--one of the perks of her position.

The paperwork and her effects arrived at the same time. Pepper opened the bag, eager to get into familiar clothes, but while her sweatpants were in decent shape her top was sandy and slightly damp. She frowned at it, dismayed.

Carlos tutted over the garment. "I'll find you a scrub top. Don't go anywhere--"

 _As if I could, in this outfit._ Curbing her impatience, Pepper signed the various insurance and discharge forms, and was ready and tapping her fingers on the blanket when Carlos returned with a top in a plain light green. Pepper changed in the bathroom, puzzled to find her shoulder bag underneath her shoes in the bundle of personal items.

_Why was I out running with my purse?_

Baffled but feeling better, she handed in the paperwork. Carlos called her a cab, and she went downstairs to meet it.

She didn't remember having that much cash in her bag, but there was plenty for taxi fare, so Pepper gave the driver her address and sat back, closing her eyes against the glare of the sun. Her sunglasses weren't in their usual pocket in the purse.

 _I probably lost them when I fell. Wherever that was._ Something was decidedly off about this whole thing, but Pepper ignored the nagging thought for the moment, wanting little more than her own safe apartment and her own shower. Her head didn't precisely hurt as long as she kept her eyes closed, but it felt too large and light, and something told her that her reserves were lower than she'd first thought.

She was half-dozing when the driver told her they'd arrived. Blinking in the sun, Pepper paid him and climbed out, rummaging in her bag for her keys.

They weren't there. Or rather they were, but the keychain held only car keys--several sets. Pepper halted, frowning down at them in bewildered consternation, and finally looked up.

The disorientation was instant and crushing, and Pepper felt as though she were in a dream that had just shifted perspective without warning. The apartment building she was standing in front of wasn't hers.

Pepper spun around, figuring that the cabbie had gotten the address wrong, but everything else was right--the park across the street, the shop next door. It was the building in front of her that was completely wrong.

 _Maybe I_ _ **am**_ _dreaming_. Pepper raised a hand to lips gone numb. _Just how hard did I hit my head?_

Her stomach twisted unpleasantly, and Pepper eased down to sit on the curb, lest her shaky knees betray her.

_If this isn't my building...then where do I live?_

The tiny whine that escaped her throat heralded panic, and Pepper immediately locked it down. _"Think,_ Virginia," she muttered. "Use your brain. There has to be some kind of logical explanation."

Except...there _wasn't._ No matter how many times she thought it through, it didn't fit. Pepper knew her own address; she could picture every detail of her cozy, slightly shabby apartment, the view from her balcony down to the park across the way.

The building behind her didn't _have_ balconies.

Her head was starting to pound again. Pepper closed her eyes, trying to breathe slowly. _Maybe I should go to the office._

_...What if work is gone too?_

The idea was horrifying; it brought a wave of nausea that made Pepper clench her teeth. But work was the only other point of stability in her life, and she swallowed and lifted her head. _You have to find out, one way or the other._

Climbing to her feet was difficult, but possible. Pepper looked around; there were people on the street, but none nearby. The taxi was long gone, but if she could just make it a couple of blocks, there was a hotel around the corner where it would be easy to catch one. "One foot in front of the other, Virginia," she told herself, and set off.

She was about halfway down the block when a small sports car screamed past, moving much too quickly for a residential area. It barely registered in her perception, but a breath later there was a hideous screech of tires, and then the car zoomed back past her and stopped, front tire bucking up onto the curb. It rather surprised Pepper when her boss popped out of the driver's seat, but before she could ask him what he was doing there he had practically thrown himself over the hood and was grabbing her by the shoulders. _"Pepper,_ you fucking _idiot,_ what the hell do you think you're _doing?"_

"Mr. Stark--" she tried to say, but the nausea suddenly got worse, and she knocked his arms away and staggered for the street. There wasn't much in her stomach, but it all ended up in the gutter. Coughing and gagging, Pepper could hardly catch her breath, but part of her was still shocked by the hands that stroked her hair out of the way and rubbed lightly between her shoulderblades.

When the wrenching spasms were finally over, Pepper sat down heavily, panting and dizzy. Her eyes wouldn't quite focus through the tears forced out by her vomiting, but she could hear Tony swearing quietly to himself, and the sound of a car door opening. A moment later, he was back, gently wiping her face with what she dimly realized was his handkerchief. It was damp and cool and felt wonderful.

"You need to get back to the hospital," he said, sounding calmer but very grim. Pepper blinked her eyes clear and squinted up at him.

"What are--" She had to stop and swallow several times. "What are you doing here?"

Her voice was hoarse, and Tony thrust a bottle of water at her, holding it until she made her fingers close around the plastic. "Looking for you, Potts, what else?"

Pepper took a cautious mouthful of water to rinse with, and spat it out into the gutter. "I don't want to go to the hospital." And she didn't. Tony's appearance was absurd enough; on top of the mystery with her apartment, Pepper was beginning to think she was truly going crazy. _If I go back, they might never let me out--_

"Did I ask your opinion?" Tony was sitting next to her, oblivious to the damage the sidewalk could do to his impeccable suit. "Pepper, you're wandering around disoriented and you just barfed your guts out. They should never have let you out in the first place."

He was tense, she could sense that. Something was wrong; he was holding it in with the stubborn strength that was an integral, if hidden, part of his character. But she couldn't concentrate enough to pursue the thought. "I'm not disoriented," she said with some indignation. "I know exactly where I am."

"Yeah, so do I, but why are you _here?"_ Tony ran an agitated hand through his hair and then stood up. "Never mind, table it for later. On your feet, Potts, time to go."

She looked up at him as he took the bottle from her and recapped it. "No."

He shoved the bottle into his coat pocket, and in one smooth motion bent and lifted her up without much effort, arms behind her shoulders and knees. She squeaked. "Again, it's not your decision."

He swung towards the car, and bundled her into the passenger seat before she could muster the wits to argue. Bending over her, he pulled the seatbelt across to fasten it, and in irritation Pepper shoved at him. "I don't--" Her hand hit something hard beneath his tie.

The seatbelt clicked into place, but she was distracted. "What are you wearing? I thought you didn't do flak vests in-country."

"It's just the reactor, Pepper. You really are out of it." Tony frowned, cupping her chin in one hand and tilting her head up to peer at her eyes. "Pupils look normal..."

"Reactor." That didn't make sense either.

"Yeah. My arc implant. Mark II, the blue light special, remember?" He released her and straightened, closing the door carefully and going around to the driver's side.

Arc. Reactor. Implant. Pepper frowned, her ears beginning to ring. "You have...a reactor. In your _chest?"_

Tony turned slowly to stare at her. "Yes...the same one you helped me install...Pepper?"

It was _absurd._ Totally, completely absurd. "I really _am_ dreaming," Pepper informed him, and passed out.


	2. Chapter 2

His first thought had been _hospital_ , but Tony glanced over at the woman in the passenger seat, and his instincts stirred uneasily. Her color was better, actually, and her breathing had deepened; he reached over and checked her pulse as he stopped for a red light, and it was steady and strong. She seemed to have passed from a faint straight into sleep.

He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, trying to decide what to do. Finally he pointed the car towards the house, barely remembering to call Hogan and let him know that Pepper had been found, stand down, thanks man. Tony had been upgrading Jarvis' medical files and scanning capabilities pretty much constantly over the last year or so; it made things easier when he came back from a mission injured. Jarvis could tell him whether or not he needed a doctor--and had more knowledge than half a dozen specialists put together. _I'll let him decide._

It wasn't hard to figure out why he didn't want to take her back to the hospital. _The first time I turn my back, she disappears._ And while bribery often worked with medical administrators--underwriting a new hospital wing could work wonders--Tony had had less success with actual doctors in the past. Getting thrown out of his girlfriend's hospital room wasn't something he wanted to try.

Pepper hadn't woken by the time he parked in the mansion's garage. She was limp and warm as he lifted her carefully from the seat, and she didn't stir.

"Jarvis." He spoke quietly, knowing that the AI could pick up a mere whisper if necessary. "I need you to run a full diagnostic on Pepper." He laid her in his chair, lowering the back so that she was reclining, and wheeled it forward a few feet so Jarvis' scanners could reach.

"I am relieved that you found her so quickly." Tony was used by now to the kind of statement that no emotionless computer was supposed to make. "Scanning now."

Tony stood out of range, trying not to twitch as the instruments hummed and buzzed over Pepper's motionless form. _"You_ found her," he pointed out dryly. "Though what the hell she was doing in her old neighborhood--"

"Disorientation is common after a head injury," Jarvis reminded him unnecessarily.

"Yeah, but why didn't she fucking _call me?"_ It was _inexplicable._ It simply didn't match what he knew of Pepper. And he liked to think that he knew her pretty well by now.

"The scan is complete. Do you wish a visual?"

Tony shook his head, loosening his tie. "Just give me the facts."

"Pepper is suffering from a mild concussion and various bruises and abrasions. Her lungs are slightly inflamed, but not sufficiently to require medical intervention. She is currently exhibiting the delta waves of Stage N3 sleep."

Tony let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "So she doesn't need to go back to the hospital?"

"Currently, no. Her stress hormone levels are quite elevated; bed rest and fluids are indicated."

"Got it." Tony gathered Pepper up again. She was lighter than she looked--it was those delicious, absurdly long legs, he thought. She let out the little sigh that always made his throat tighten, and snuggled closer, her hand automatically coming to rest over his arc implant.

He resisted the urge to hug her _hard,_ and headed for the elevator. "Jarvis," he said over his shoulder, "call Fury and tell him the emergency is still ongoing. No bugging me until I say otherwise."

The elevator closed on Jarvis' acknowledgment.

The bed was a mess, but that just made it easier to bend and sweep the spread out of the way before laying Pepper down. Tony removed her shoes and socks and sweatpants before pulling up the blankets and tucking her in.

And then he stripped off his own shoes, coat, and tie, and lay down next to her, and repeated Jarvis' words silently. _Stage N3 sleep. She's probably not even dreaming._

None of it made the knot just behind his implant loosen. The last day had been a new kind of hell, and her antics hadn't helped. He'd nearly lost it right there when she'd fainted in his car.

Tony sighed, and closed his eyes. Part of him was clamoring for sleep, but given what had happened the _last_ time he'd taken a nap, he wasn't inclined to try it just yet. Besides, every time he started to drift off, the memory replayed itself in vivid full color--

_"I'm going out for a run." Pepper had pulled on an old set of sweats and a Stark Industries softball cap, and looked delectable to his greedy eyes. Tony set down his coffee mug and pushed a little ways away from the kitchen table, and Pepper didn't disappoint him, detouring over for a brief but warm kiss._

" _Don't be too long," he told her._

" _What, you want company in the shower?" She grinned at him and ruffled his bed-head, and he swiped at her ineffectually._

" _Always." He patted her ass as she walked away, and on impulse picked up his coffee and took it with him to the window. Watching Pepper warm up was one of his little treats._

_The sun was just clearing the horizon. Normally they ran together, Pepper's length of leg offsetting his greater stamina, but he'd pulled his calf during his last suit mission and wasn't quite up to a sustained jog. But there were pleasures to be found in observing; Tony sipped his drink and watched his girlfriend stretch as she emerged from the house a story below._

_It was still a new feeling, he mused, even though they had been living together almost a year now. A constant source of astonishment, that he could be so comfortable with someone else, that she would put up with him, that he was always eager to see her even when they'd spent most of the day in each other's proverbial pockets._ _**Love** _ _was an astonishment. And while he was still feeling his way through his first long-term relationship, Tony liked to flatter himself that he wasn't doing too badly._

_Pepper finished her warmup and began running south along the cliff path--setting a fairly easy pace, he noted, without him there to compete with. Tony smiled into his mug and enjoyed the sexy grace of her movements as she drew away from the house._

_It happened almost too quickly for him to comprehend. Between one breath and the next, some fifteen yards of the cliff path simply crumbled abruptly out of sight, sliding down to the beach below._

_Taking the small slender figure with them._

_Tony didn't remember dropping the mug, or starting to run; awareness came when his bare feet reached the top of the switchback stairs to his private beach. He didn't bother with them; instead, he jumped over the railings from landing to landing, ignoring the jar every time he landed and the splinters that were embedding themselves in his palms. The tide was washing up the sand when he finally got to the bottom, and Tony poured every erg of energy he had into speed._

_The new gap in the cliff face was footed by a pile of sand and rocks, already being nibbled on by the encroaching ocean; this part of the path swung out until it was nearly over the water. But Tony had eyes only for Pepper's tumbled form._

_She looked absurdly small, and horridly still, and his throat seized up as he realized that she was face-down in the water. Gasping, Tony fell to his knees next to her._ _**"Pepper!"** _

_She didn't move. He grabbed her, rolling her over and across his lap, and she was limp and deathly white, blood welling up and staining her sopping hair. Cursing, Tony gathered her up and stood, retreating from the waves and seeking dryer ground. When he laid her out on the hard sand and bent his head to her chest, there was no movement._

_Ice spiked him from throat to gut. He pressed fumbling fingers to her throat, and felt nothing. Terrified, Tony covered her mouth with his and blew._

_He never could remember, afterwards, how long he alternated rescue breathing and chest compressions before Pepper stirred, choked, and vomited water; he barely got her turned onto her side in time. But as he pulled her upright to help her breathe, he blessed his father for instituting, all those years ago, mandatory CPR training for all Stark Industries employees, from the janitors straight up to the board members. Including the CEO._

_Pepper didn't really regain consciousness during the trek back to the house. Tony went as fast as he could without jarring her too much, relieved beyond measure to see her hands and feet moving; the situation hadn't allowed for precautions against spinal or neck injuries. As soon as he was within shouting distance, Tony bellowed for Jarvis, demanding that he rouse Hogan from the driver's cottage near the gate._

_By the time Tony had snagged Pepper's bag and his own I.D., Hogan had the limo at the front of the house, door wide open and his face almost as pale as Pepper's. The drive to the hospital would have been harrowing under other circumstances, but all Tony's attention was taken by the unconscious, blanket-wrapped woman in his arms--_

They'd told him she would be _fine._ Tony seethed at the thought. He'd been there when she'd finally woken, dazed and hurting, and while her behavior had been odd--she'd almost seemed repulsed by him--she had been coherent, at least.

_Fuck, she's still coherent. She just doesn't make any_ _**sense** _ _._

Doctor Phair had made him leave, threatening to forbid him visiting privileges if he didn't cooperate. Tony had gone home and even managed to sleep for a few hours, with the help of the scotch he hardly ever touched any more, but he was back on the hospital's doorstep as soon as visiting hours began.

Only to find that Pepper had already been _discharged._

Tony made a mental note to switch Stark Industries' insurance provider, and another to buy out the first insurer just so he could fire whoever had decided that head injury victims should be limited to one-night stays. Hogan had tried to tell him that Pepper had just gone home, but the sick feeling in Tony's gut had warned him otherwise.

She hadn't waited for him. She hadn't even _called._ Something was very, very wrong.

 _Does she blame me for what happened?_ He already blamed himself; the house was secure on its perch, but apparently he'd neglected maintenance for the cliff path. But even anger at him shouldn't have led her to wander back to her old neighborhood.

It had been Jarvis who had traced her phone's GPS chip and told him where to look. Tony had been so relieved to find her, so furious and frightened, that it had taken him a while to notice that her statements didn't quite track.

Now a cold suspicion was growing in the back of his mind, one that he didn't dare look at directly, because it was so ridiculous, so cliché...so frightening. It was nonsense, had to be.

Either way, however, he wasn't budging. He didn't care if it took a week--he was going to be there when Pepper opened her eyes.

Which should happen any time. The sooner, the better.

He shifted, and sighed. And went on waiting.

He really hated waiting.

* * *

Several things crossed Pepper's mind the moment she woke.

One--she was insanely comfortable, despite the heavy arm thrown over her hip.

Two--she knew that scent, and it meant she was in her boss' presence, which meant _Three_ \--she was in her boss' _bed._

Which led to the truly dizzying number Four--if she was in his bed, why was _he_ still in it?

She didn't remember getting into the bed. That wasn't entirely unexpected, because from what she'd seen women often didn't, being too occupied with Tony himself at the time. What bothered her was that she didn't remember anything leading _up_ to that either.

Not to mention the screaming voice between her ears ranting at her for being just that _stupid._

Ethics. Morals. Common _sense._ She'd apparently tossed them all out the window on a surge of hormones.

Pepper held very still. The windows were dimmed, so it was hard to tell what time it was, but the body behind her was breathing slowly and deeply, which probably meant he was asleep.

And if he remained so, she might just be able to salvage the last shreds of her dignity, if not her job.

 _Of course,_ the voice snickered meanly, _no one's going to come throw you out..._

Pepper ignored it the best she could, and very cautiously reached down to lift Tony's arm. Sliding out from under it, she made to the edge of the bed--she'd never realized quite how _big_ the damn thing was before--and stood.

Someone--she couldn't quite picture Tony doing it, but who else was there--had folded her sweatpants over the back of a chair. Pepper gathered them up, spotted her shoes, and was bending for them when a weary voice spoke.

"Where do you think you're going?"

She froze. The last thing she wanted to do was look at him, but pride rose up and conquered cowardice, and Pepper straightened and turned slowly around.

Tony was sitting up, his hair seriously mussed and his eyes shadowed with exhaustion. His shirt was badly wrinkled, and Pepper focused on that so she didn't have to meet his gaze. "I--Mr. Stark--"

Part of her wondered wildly if she would have a better idea of what to say if she could remember what they'd _done._ "I need to go."

He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand. "You need to get back in bed and sleep some more, at the very least." His manner was odd--not at all what she had expected, neither impatient nor amorous. Instead, he just looked wary.

"I'm _not--"_ Pepper began, and stopped, not quite sure what to say. "You--we--" She gave up, and waved at the bed.

Tony's mouth quirked, dry and somehow sad. "Do you really think that we'd still have any clothes on if we'd...had sex, Pepper? Or have I been giving you too much credit all these years?"

Her ears began to ring again. He had a point; she was still wearing the scrub top and her panties, and Tony seemed to be fully dressed.

None of it made any _sense._ Pepper clutched her pants, wanting to pull them on and cover herself but not quite able to move. Tony stood up, reached for the robe puddled on the end of the bed, and tossed it to her. "Here."

It was his. She caught the robe automatically, and wrapped it around her hastily. "What am I doing in your bedroom? In your _house?_ "Pepper ran a hand through her hair and winced as she hit a sore spot. "The last thing I remember is you putting me in your car."

Tony grimaced. "Yeah. You passed out. I had Jarvis check you over and he said you needed sleep."

Pepper felt a glare coming on. "You have a half-dozen bedrooms in this place, and you had to put me in _yours?"_

"What? The sheets are clean. Mostly." The glint of humor faded quickly. "Pepper--there's something--" He hesitated.

She raised her chin, shame returning and mixing with resolution. "My resignation will be on your desk tomorrow morning."

"The _hell_ it will." Tony's eyes narrowed. "Look, there's no easy way to do this. What's today's date?"

Pepper stared at him, calling up anniversaries from memory and not uncovering any that seemed significant. "Saturday. June fourth."

He _winced._ "What year?"

She was used to strange questions from him, demands for reminders of perfectly obvious details, so she answered. "2005."

Tony's eyes closed briefly, and he let out a long breath. "Pepper...it's 2009. September twelfth." His smile didn't quite work. "You got the day right at least."

 _Just how much has he had to drink?_ She hadn't smelled alcohol on him, but-- "Maybe you're the one who should be in bed."

He looked up at the ceiling. "Jarvis, date and time please."

"It is 2:44 PM on September twelfth, 2009," the AI recited obediently. "I am sorry, Ms. Potts."

Pepper blinked, and felt anger starting to swell under her breastbone. "You know, Mr. Stark, I'm used to your stunts by now, but this is not at all funny."

Tony's mouth fell open. "You think I'm _joking_ about this?"

Pepper bent and retrieved her shoes, her movements jerky with irritation. "Sure. Humiliate me for a moment of weakness, though why you couldn't have just--" She straightened again, huffing. "Reprogramming Jarvis is kind of a low blow, though, don't you think?"

Tony actually sputtered, his face creasing with reciprocal anger. "I'm not--I didn't! Pepper--"

She spun on her bare heel and marched for the door. There were two full bathrooms downstairs; she could change there. _And then I'm going_ _ **home**_ _if I have to walk every step._ The fact that home wasn't where she'd left it seemed a distant thing at the moment; what mattered was getting out of Tony's room and out of his house before he could shame her further.

Before she reached the hall, the door slammed shut with a bang and Tony stood in front of it, frowning stormily. "Moment of weakness--we'll have to talk about that later. Nevertheless, you're not leaving, Ms. Potts."

Pepper straightened her shoulders and reminded herself that she was taller than him when she wore heels. "You have no right to detain me."

He blinked rapidly, as if sorting through possible responses, but before he could answer Jarvis broke in.

"I have not been reprogrammed, Ms. Potts. Tony is telling you the truth. You received a blow to the head yesterday, and it appears to have blocked a portion of your memory."

It felt as though her blood were chilling, slowing down in its flow through her veins. Jarvis went on. "For your own health and safety, it would be best for you to remain in the house for the moment. You are on the verge of dehydration and still require rest and food." The AI hesitated for a second. "If you are not comfortable in Tony's room, there are several other rooms available to you."

She honestly didn't know what to say--or even _think._ The idea seemed impossible, especially when her memory of what she'd assumed to be the past week was still so clear--

But even Tony didn't carry a joke this far.

Pepper swallowed, and met Tony's gaze. His mouth was set in a grim line, but after a moment he stepped aside, wordlessly clearing her path.

She opened the door and walked out. Tony followed her as she descended the stairs, but she didn't deign to look back, instead heading for the first guest room on the main floor. It had an en-suite bathroom and a door that _locked._

Pepper was half-afraid that Tony would pursue her into the bedroom, but he halted on the threshold, and said nothing when she closed the door in his face.

And then she leaned her forehead against the door, fighting tears of strain and fear. _I don't know what's going on. I don't know what to do._

_I'm scared._

* * *

"What's she doing?" Tony asked, slumping onto the piano bench and running a fingertip along the smooth keys, too lightly to produce any sound. "Show me."

"That request is a violation of her privacy," the AI reminded him, and Tony laughed without humor.

"Fuck privacy. She's hurt, and if I know Pepper she's terrified but won't admit it. Show me."

The big TV across the room flared to life, showing a view of the guest room Pepper had chosen. She wasn't visible, but before Tony could ask, the door of the bathroom opened and she came out, holding a glass of water.

She was still wearing his bathrobe, and Tony didn't know whether to be glad, or just worry that she was even further out of it. "Are you monitoring her vitals?"

"Of course," Jarvis admonished. "Her stress levels are still high, but she has begun to rehydrate. Heartbeat and respiration are only slightly above normal."

Tony watched as Pepper wandered over to look out the window. "That was pretty sneaky of you," he said after a moment. "Not mentioning that it's actually _our_ room."

"Treatment for retrograde amnesia includes allowing the sufferer to progress at his or her own pace, rather than forcing them to accept facts they are not ready to deal with. I strongly suggest that you adhere to this guideline when dealing with Ms. Potts."

Tony grimaced. "Hint taken." For one thing, she was right--he had no legal right to keep her against her will. The fact that she really had nowhere else to _go_ obviously hadn't dawned on her yet, and equally obviously this wasn't the time to bring it up.

On the screen Pepper was sipping from her glass, still with her back to the camera, and Tony wondered if she even remembered that the cameras were there. _I don't have the right to hold her--but there is no fucking way I'm letting her go._ For her own safety, or for his sanity. Either was sufficient.

"Tell me more about amnesia," he ordered Jarvis. "How long will it take her to recover her memory?"

"Do you want full-text articles, or a summary?"

"Distill it." Tony felt the urge for a drink, and set his jaw to ignore it.

"Very well. Retrograde amnesia of this magnitude is far rarer than popular fiction would lead one to believe, and unfortunately there are few consistent patterns for memory recovery. Some people recover most or all of their memory in time; others recall only portions thereof, or never regain what was lost. Recovery time can range from days to months or even years."

Tony's mouth twisted; it wasn't what he wanted to hear. "What can we do to help?"

"Recommended treatments include allowing the sufferer to set the pace of inquiry, as previously mentioned," Jarvis said. "Places and patterns still familiar to the patient often help them regain a sense of stability. Pushing to recover memories can actually hinder or cause harm."

"Right." Tony watched Pepper finish her water and set the glass down on the room's small desk. She folded her arms, and her head bowed.

2005\. Long before Afghanistan, before the suit, before his literal change of heart. Longer still before they'd dared to consummate what had been growing between them for so long. _In 2005 I was still a complete playboy, coming up with bigger and badder weapons and never bothering to notice anything that might possibly disturb me._ And Pepper had been little more than his PA at that point--scarily smart, able to anticipate practically every thought he had, and capable of snarking back at him when he got out of line, but definitely off limits.

 _So to her, I'm still that guy._ The thought made him ache, made him angry--not at her, but at himself, for being such an ass all those years. For wasting so much _time._

Pepper moved, turning and walking slowly to the neatly made bed. As Tony watched, she shed his robe and dropped it on a chair, then lifted the covers and slid down under them. She curled up into a tight ball, and his gut knotted sharply as she pulled a pillow into her arms.

He knew what those shaking shoulders meant, even if Jarvis hadn't included audio. Without thought, he stood.

He made three strides before Jarvis cut him off. "You must leave her alone, Tony. She does not know you as she used to, and you will only make things worse if you go to her now."

The AI was right. Tony knew it, and for her sake he had to obey. He forced himself to sit down again, to relax his hands from clenched fists; but when he looked again at the TV and the huddled figure on the screen, it felt like his reactor had failed and all the shrapnel was diving for home.

_Pepper..._

His vision blurred, and he couldn't stop the sob.


	3. Chapter 3

He'd asked Jarvis to let him know when she roused, so that the smell of cooking food would reach her as soon Pepper opened her door. The AI reported that she was taking a shower, so Tony took his time fixing supper--homemade soup from the freezer and a loaf of bread, fresh fruit and some of the imported chocolate she loved.

"What's she doing now, Jarvis?" he asked, slicing an apple.

"Getting dressed. May I suggest that you postpone any intense discussions until after she has eaten? Judging from her vital signs, Ms. Potts' blood sugar is quite low."

"Do my best." Tony tossed a blueberry into his mouth. He'd fished out a t-shirt and slacks, and appropriate underwear, from Pepper's half of the closet and left them outside her door, instructing Jarvis to let her know they were there when she woke. "Are Rhodey and Happy up to date?" He'd asked Jarvis to let them know that Pepper was recovering but still feeling somewhat indisposed, nothing more.

"Colonel Rhodes is currently unavailable, but I have sent him a précis by e-mail. Mr. Hogan says he understands, and wishes you both, I quote, 'best of luck'."

"Right." Tony picked up a spoon and stirred the soup.

"You can cook?"

He turned to see Pepper watching warily from the doorway, and nearly bit his tongue trying not to mention that _she'd_ been the one who'd made the soup. "Cooking is science, Potts," he said finally. "Just because I prefer engineering to chemistry..."

"Touché." She smiled faintly, and came in, still looking as though she thought he might bite.

Tony made a deliberate effort to relax, and waved casually at the table and its two place settings. "Grab a seat, this is almost ready. What do you want to drink? There's water, milk, iced tea, and about a zillion different kinds of juice."

"Tea's fine." Pepper sat down, a bit stiffly. "Um...can I...do anything?"

"Nope." Tony filled two glasses with ice and tea, and ladled soup into bowls. "There you are, bon appétit."

Fortunately, he didn't have to coax her to eat. Pepper's manners were always impeccable--except for the occasional beer belching contest--but it was clear despite them that she was quite hungry. Tony watched in satisfaction as she ate, sporadically remembering his own meal. Neither of them said much besides asking for the butter, but that was fine with him. Whatever conversation they were going to have to have was not going to be easy, and Jarvis was right as usual--she needed nourishment before they went any further.

Two bowls of soup later Pepper was looking much less fragile. Tony retrieved the chocolates from the counter and shoved the box carelessly across the table, and her eyes lit. "Oh, I love these."

He managed to hide his flinch at that as she chose one and began nibbling. Pushing to his feet, he opened the refrigerator and poured her a glass of milk, setting it down near her right hand. She blinked at it, her face sobering, and then looked up at him. "I always drink milk with these."

It was a statement and a question both, and Tony nodded. "I know."

Pepper put down the half-eaten confection and stared at the glass, looking as though her appetite had fled, but then she picked up the milk very deliberately and took a swallow. Her eyes met his over the rim of the glass, and she set it back down. "Tell me."

Tony hesitated, suddenly not sure where to start or how much to tell her, but her gaze was adamant. He decided to stick to the barest of facts for the moment. "You were running along the cliff trail here yesterday morning, and part of it collapsed. You fell down the hill and into the water. I...had to resuscitate you." His breath hitched at the memory.

Pepper's eyes were huge, and her hand rose to touch her breastbone. "Okay," she said faintly. "That...fits with what they told me at the hospital."

Tony gestured vaguely at her head. "Apparently the knock to your head caused you to lose some memory. According to Jarvis, the best thing for you is familiar routines, but--"

"My apartment," she whispered.

He nodded. "They tore the building down right after you moved out. The next choice would be your office, but we renovated the main building in '07 and you're not even in the same wing anymore."

Pepper rubbed her forehead as if it hurt. "Okay...okay. How about my new place, then? I can't imagine that I threw out all my old furniture too..."

 _Here we go._ Tony really, really didn't want to try to explain this part, because he _did_ remember the kind of man he'd been four years ago, and he had a pretty strong feeling that he knew how Pepper had felt about him then. She'd respected him as her employer and as a businessman, but not at all as a person, and even if he had changed--

He didn't want to see the contempt in her eyes. Not for himself, and definitely not for her.

"Not exactly. Um." He took a deep breath. "Pepper, you moved in with me a year ago. _This_ is your home now."

* * *

Her system must have declared a limit on shocks for the day, because Pepper felt very little in response to Tony's statement. Bafflement probably headed the list--she honestly couldn't see how she would have allowed herself to get into that kind of situation.

Behind that was a small sense of discomfort at the way Tony was looking at her. No, not quite that, exactly, but there was something going on with him that she didn't understand.

"So," she said carefully, trying to find her footing. "I don't work for you any more."

Tony's head rocked back in mock dismay. "You certainly do, Ms. Potts. I can't get through a meeting without you, let alone a whole day." He grinned at her, some of his normal attitude returning.

Pepper shook her head. "I--how could I do that? It doesn't make sense." Her throat was tightening at the thought. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Tony twitch, as though forcing himself not to move. "I can't believe I slept with my boss."

"It wasn't just _sleeping,_ Pepper," Tony said, and there was an odd undercurrent to his voice, almost as if he were pleading with her. "We're lovers. Were. Are. _Hell."_ He sat back in his chair, exuding frustration.

"Semantics," she said weakly. _When did I turn into someone spineless? When did I get_ _ **stupid**_ _?_

" _No,"_ he said firmly, but then closed his mouth to cut off further words, and waved a hand. "Look, don't...worry about it right now. All your stuff is here, and you can set up a room any way you like."

"I can't _stay_ here," Pepper protested automatically. "Maybe a hotel..."

Tony winced again. "I'm afraid that's not an option. There are, um, security concerns."

She looked up sharply, but there was no hint of the mischief he displayed when he wanted to yank her chain--just honest concern. And the realization brought home the fact of how much had been taken from her-- _four years._ Four years of history, current events, advances in science and art, beautiful days and nights, all gone. _How can I even do my_ _ **job**_ _?_

Pepper shuddered. "You aren't obligated--I mean--" She couldn't think how to phrase her sentence. How could she explain that she didn't want to be beholden to him, no matter what had happened during the missing time?

A muscle jerked in Tony's jaw, but when he spoke his voice was level, even soothing. "Leave our, ah, relationship out of things for the moment, it's...not relevant." He swallowed hard. "You're still an employee of Stark Industries, and of me in particular. You were hurt on my property. In essence, I--and the company through me--have an obligation to you."

When he put it like that, it almost made sense, except that Pepper knew quite well that giving her a place to stay was way outside the realm of the company's responsibility. _But what are you going to do, Virginia? Find a hotel room and stare at the walls while you wait for your memory to come back? At least here things are kind of familiar. And if he's right about security..._

"All right," she said at last. "For a couple of days, at least."

"Deal." Tony nodded once, for an instant the consummate businessman. "There are other things you should know--"

Pepper held up a hand. "I think," she said, trying to speak easily, "that I've learned enough for right now." The ring in her ears had never quite abated, and her head was spinning with confusion and utter dismay.

"Okay." Tony deflated a little. "Why don't you go...relax or something. Watch a movie, Jarvis has them all on tap, or maybe read a book..."

Normally, Pepper's first impulse would be to offer to help with the dishes, but right then what she wanted most was space to think. Or not think. She nodded and stood, getting two steps away from the table before turning back to retrieve her chocolate and the milk. As she carried them out of the kitchen, she could swear that Tony was hiding a smile.

In the end, she went back to the guest room; it was more enclosed than the TV room, and she felt better in its cool privacy. At her request Jarvis laid on some Chet Baker, and Pepper sat by the window to finish her dessert and try to make sense of this new and bewildering world.

She didn't touch the putative relationship between herself and Tony just yet; that was too big, and too alien. Instead, she considered her situation as it was--injured but not incapacitated, employed in a position that--for the immediate future--she couldn't fulfill, and living in a house that she didn't consider her own in any way. _I feel like I've fallen into an alternate universe._

Tony kept trying to reassure her, though, in his own awkward way. Whether her job would wait for her was an open question, but he'd made it clear that for now it was hers, and Pepper was grateful. _If I don't get my memory back soon, I'll have to resign...but it's too soon to worry about._

She had plenty of money saved up; her salary was outrageous, but as Tony had pointed out more than once, _he_ was outrageous; and there were days when Pepper felt like she earned every penny and then some. She had options.

And she had a place to stay, even if the mere idea made her uncomfortable. It was, at least, somewhat familiar; right now, Pepper admitted silently, _familiar_ was a big deal. So much had vanished from her life in one blow--her home, her work--even Tony was different.

Pepper finished her milk and set the glass aside. _I keep coming back to him somehow._ Whether or not she wanted to think about the relationship he claimed, he seemed to be behind everything.

Well, he had been, in essence, the main focus of her life for several years now. Keeping him more-or-less on track was a more than full time job that required every scrap of her attention, and it was a good thing she loved a challenge, or Pepper would have resigned long before. Working for Tony Stark was often frustrating, frequently annoying, sometimes amusing--and never boring.

And there was plenty to admire about him. Not just his genius, which wasn't exactly something he could control anyway. He could be generous with time, attention, and money; he supported a dozen different causes with casual grace, loved to set up secret college funds for students who caught his eye, and had been known to buy out half the stock of a toy store in person when the Toys for Tots people came calling. He was witty, yet able to abandon dignity at a moment's notice, and despite his careless lifestyle he adhered to a private code of ethics that most observers never guessed existed.

 _And when he pays attention, he can be very sweet._ Pepper smiled sadly at the milky glass on the little table next to her chair. He hadn't even asked--he'd just filled it for her as though he did it every day.

_Maybe he does._

The thought was deeply uncomfortable, and Pepper pushed it aside.

Her head was starting to hurt again; not the pounding of earlier, but a slow ache that heralded exhaustion. _I think I need more sleep._ Either that, or just to stop thinking; but aside from alcohol, which wasn't her oblivion of choice even _without_ a head injury, sleep was the only option.

Pepper pushed herself out of the chair and ran a tongue around the inside of her mouth. Tony's guest rooms included small containers of toiletries, much like hotel rooms, but the brand of toothpaste wasn't to her taste and she suspected it had passed its expiration date anyway. "Jarvis?"

"Yes, Ms. Potts?" the AI answered.

"My things are in...Mr. Stark's room, right?"

"That is correct." Was there a hint of sympathy in the artificial voice? She couldn't quite tell.

"Where is he right now?"

"Tony is currently in the basement garage."

Working on something, no doubt, whether it be a new invention or a carburetor. Pepper picked up the glass, and the bathrobe that smelled like cologne, engine grease, and sleepy male, and carried them out.

The dishwasher was running, so Pepper washed the glass and left it in the dish drainer. The robe she took with her to his room, which was not quite as chaotic as it usually was. The sunset outside the windows was stunning, but Pepper felt too nervous to stop and admire it.

The bathrobe's habitual spot was just inside the door of the walk-in closet, but Pepper almost dropped it as she opened that door, because the scent that washed out of it was not quite the one she was expecting. Essence of Tony, yes, much like the robe; but mixed with it was the vanilla scent she herself preferred, and the two made a whole that gave her stomach an odd twist and, for some reason, made her eyes prickle with tears.

Pepper frowned, hung up the robe with brisk efficiency, and glanced over the closet, doing her best to pretend it belonged to someone else entirely. Tony's things had been bunched over to the left, and the space on the right was decently filled with what she easily recognized as her own clothing.

It was the first concrete proof she had that Tony was telling the truth--about everything. There were her work suits, her jeans and t-shirts, three formal dresses she recognized and three she didn't. Below, in a very long, three-tier rack, were her shoes.

It was the shoes that got her. Pepper stared down at them, her one indulgence and her private pleasure, lined up tidily pair by pair. Among them were sets that were outside even her considerable budget--fantastically expensive, hyper-fashionable shoes available only to those with far more money than anyone should have.

Like one Tony Stark, multi-billionaire playboy and wastrel.

_Did I give up my principles for that?_

The idea made her feel ill.

One of the skills of an effective PA was the ability to shut off emotion when necessary. Pepper threw her mental switch, set her chin, and collected a few sets of casual clothing from the hangers, and marched out. The bathroom off the bedroom was enormous, but Pepper spared the jacuzzi and the huge shower not one glance, instead spreading out one of her t-shirts on the long sink counter and dumping onto it the toiletries that she could identify as her own. She added a hairbrush and a few hair ties and then hesitated over the bottle of her perfume, the closet's combined odors troubling her. Finally she scooped it up. _I've been wearing it longer than I've known Mr. Stark. It's mine._

It was a few minutes' work to distribute her things around the room that she'd chosen, but doing so didn't make Pepper feel much better. The room was still bare and impersonal and very definitely not her own.

Pepper brushed her teeth with stolid determination, changed into the long shirt she preferred for sleeping in, and climbed into the big bed. The sunset had faded to a few streaks of brilliant color, but she told Jarvis to darken the windows all the same. Somehow she didn't want the world looking in on her.

The shirt smelled musty, as if it had been sitting too long, but Pepper buried her face in the pillow and forced herself to concentrate on numbers, a calm flow of primes that was her equivalent of counting sheep.

Eventually, somewhere around 1481, it worked.

* * *

"Breathing and heart rate indicate that Pepper has succumbed to sleep," Jarvis said quietly, and Tony looked up from the engine block he was reassembling.

"Good. She find everything she needed?"

"It would seem so."

Tony sighed, and reached for a rag to wipe his hands. He'd cleared off to his workshop to give Pepper a chance to move around without fear of running into him, and it seemed to have worked. According to Jarvis she'd retrieved a few things from their--his--dammit, _their_ room, and gone to bed, and Tony decided to be grateful that she hadn't cleaned everything out from sheer indignation. Her horror at the idea of their relationship had been pretty obvious earlier.

 _I can't blame her. Hell, I was lucky she agreed to move in with me the first time, and that was after I did some growing up._ Not that it had been particularly easy, either--Pepper was, after all, responsible for his image among other things, and had seemed almost more concerned about how a relationship with him would hinder her ability to do her job than how it might damage her own reputation.

 _Reputation, hah._ The truth was, Tony had had every intention of marrying Pepper as soon as he could talk her around to the idea, and let the scoffers deal with her being one of the wealthiest women on the planet and _his wife,_ but it looked like his plans had just gotten interrupted. And what he was left with was a shaken, bewildered woman who believed that becoming his lover had been a betrayal of her own principles.

It _hurt._ Tony knew it wasn't remotely Pepper's fault, but it still hurt him badly to be so, well, rejected. He hadn't fully realized how much of his own sense of well-being was supported by Pepper's love and care for him. She had become his touchstone; she was the reason he was able to keep doing what he did, to go on making amends without breaking apart.

 _It's just like the last time, genius. You have to show her that you're different._ Sooner or later she was going to learn what had happened over the last four years, including the changes Tony had gone through; and he had to believe that she would swing around to him again, like she had the first time. _She has to._

_Because there is no other option._

He couldn't go on without her. He knew that.

Tony tossed the rag aside and regarded the engine without much interest--he'd chosen to work on it because he could do so almost without thinking at all, and thus not screw up anything important. But now that Pepper was asleep and he didn't have to be ready to...well...whatever she might require, he could turn his attention to something else. Like the suit, which he wasn't ready to have her see without some prior explanation anyway.

 _I'm not sure she even remembers the rest of this morning._ Tony tapped his fingers absently on the cloth stretched over the implant cover; it had taken him a while to find a t-shirt without a hole in the front. Finding out he had an arc reactor in his chest had seemed to be the final straw that had made her pass out, though Tony figured that the multiple shocks of the morning plus, duh, head injury, were all responsible. He shuddered at the memory of her pale as wax, her freckles standing out far too well against her skin as he rubbed her hands and cursed at her. It had been far too reminiscent of her appearance after her fall down the cliff.

 _She's fine,_ he told himself silently. _As fine as she can be, anyway._ Jarvis was monitoring her every breath, and would alert Tony instantly if something went wrong.

And yet all he wanted to do was go back upstairs, slide into bed beside her, and _hold_ her. So that he _knew_ she was there, and fine, and breathing.

"Suck it up, Stark," he muttered, and stood up. Time to concentrate on something else.

But as he called up the suit schematics, Tony left the music off.

Just in case.


	4. Chapter 4

Pepper woke feeling better. For a while she lay still, blinking lazily at the dim room, letting her eyes slide shut for a while and then open again as she simply enjoyed the feeling of not being in pain, or tired, or distressed. Her life was a sudden shambles, she knew that, but for the moment the shambles was outside her door, and until she got up and opened that door there was peace.

It was even Sunday, which was traditionally her day of rest--as long as her pernicious boss didn't call her needing something...

Pepper shoved the thought of him firmly away and sat up, stretching. Her head still felt tender somehow and her bruises were still quite present, but she didn't feel so absolutely drained. Unfortunately, however, when she tried to recall the past week her memories insisted that it was still 2005.

_Blast. Well, I suppose it couldn't have been that easy._

"Jarvis, windows lighter please," she requested, and the view outside resolved as early morning--clear, sunny, and beautiful.

"Good morning, Ms. Potts. The time is 6:34 AM."

"Morning." Pepper indulged in a yawn. "Wow, I slept in."

"If I may venture an opinion, you needed the rest," Jarvis told her gently. "I am pleased that you are feeling better."

She shook her head, still obscurely amused at the idea of an artificial intelligence expressing emotions, but given his programmer's sense of humor it wasn't that surprising. "So am I."

Pepper took her time in the shower, and it was good to use her own soap and shampoo. When she got out, she catalogued the bruises she could feel. There were plenty of them, hips and arms and legs, but none that looked too serious.

The one on her breastbone, however, gave her pause. _Resuscitate me?_ She couldn't quite picture her boss bending over her trying to restart her heart, but the bruise gave other evidence, and Pepper started to feel a little ashamed of herself for how she'd reacted the day before.

 _Whatever's gone on the past four years, it had to have been my choice._ Mr. Stark did many things she found disappointing if not reprehensible, but he never compelled an unwilling woman. _And it looks like I owe him my life._

The other thing she discovered was a birth control patch on her right hip. Pepper frowned down at it, more out of thought than actual irritation. She remembered being on the Pill, more for its amelioration effects than anything else, but apparently at some point she'd switched.

Its existence also presented her with another problem. Pepper hesitated, but there were only two choices, and there was no way she was going to ask her boss about her birth control. _If nothing else, I would_ _ **never**_ _hear the end of it. Oh well, if I'm supposed to be living here-- "_ Um, Jarvis? Do you know where I am in my cycle?"

"You are due to change your patch in two days," the AI told her. "I am scheduled to remind you that morning."

Pepper let out a breath. "Okay, thanks." And then she had to laugh a little, because who else on the planet had to consult a computer about the intimate and messy details of their menstrual cycle? _It's a good thing I'm used to working with him._ "Jarvis, you're a treasure."

"Thank you, Ms. Potts." Jarvis' tone was warm.

She dried her hair, pulled it back into her usual ponytail, and got dressed, leaving her feet bare for the moment--she'd forgotten to retrieve any shoes or socks at all from Tony's closet, and the running shoes next to her bed were still rather sandy. _I'll deal with them later, after some coffee._ Weekend or not, she needed her caffeine.

The kitchen was clean and empty, and while the coffee machine gave her a moment's pause--it was not the model she'd been expecting to see--it didn't take her long to start a pot. Tony was prone to replacing gadgets at the drop of a hat when a newer, shinier version came on the market, and it wasn't like brewing coffee was that complicated. As she took her first sip Pepper sighed in appreciation; Tony insisted on the gourmet stuff. "Jarvis, where is Mr. Stark?"

"Tony is asleep on the couch in his workshop."

She rolled her eyes out of sheer habit; that usually meant he'd been working on something until nearly dawn and had passed out in place rather than make the trek upstairs. Still, it was Sunday, and as far as she knew he had nothing scheduled--

As far as she knew. The thought was, if not quite chilling, at least sobering. _The fact is, I know nothing._ If Tony was telling the truth, and at this point she had no reason to think otherwise, she still worked for him; but whatever careful calendar she'd set up for him was gone from her head as if it had never been there.

Pepper opened her mouth, and then closed it. _I can't ask Jarvis every time I run into a problem. Now think, Virginia--where's the most logical place for it to be?_

Some time later she was sitting in the living room, reading a manual off the TV screen and cursing to herself, when Tony spoke behind her. "What's got you all riled up?"

She looked over her shoulder to see him standing by the stairs, his hair wet and a towel slung over his shirt like a scarf. His eyes were still a little bleary. "This isn't my _phone,"_ she replied, exasperated.

He blinked, and came over to see what she was holding. "Um, it looks like yours."

Pepper shook the BlackBerry once, in lieu of strangling something that didn't have a neck. "I didn't even _recognize_ it. And whoever designed the upgraded software really needs to be _shot."_

"Oh." He rubbed his jaw absently. "Yeah. Sorry. There's been a few model changes. I might be able to pick you up an old one off of eBay, but I don't think it'll still work with the current system."

She growled. "Then go away and let me figure this out in peace."

Tony snorted softly. "You haven't-- Don't you think you should at least give yourself another day or so to, I don't know, _recover_ or something?"

"Familiarity, remember?" Pepper tried to soften the edge in her tone. "Besides, I shudder to think what's happening without me."

He actually laughed a little. "Most of my appointments are on hold at the moment. Jarvis is keeping an eye on the essentials, but right now you getting better is the most important thing."

His quiet statement took her aback. The idea of Tony Stark, irresponsible and shallow, actually caring about anyone's wellbeing like this was...well, shocking, actually. It wasn't that he didn't _care,_ Pepper knew--it was by his explicit orders that Stark Industries never fired anyone who was seriously ill, for instance. It was just that he didn't care so...personally.

Pepper shook her head, not willing to deal with those implications when he was standing right behind her. "I owe you an apology," she said instead, making herself meet his eyes without flinching. "Some of the things I said yesterday were very cruel."

To her utter surprise, Tony _blushed_. He held up a hand to stop her. "Hey, totally understandable under the circumstances, really--I mean, how were you supposed to know?" He shrugged, a trace of cynicism thinning his lips. "It's not like my past behavior was worth writing home about. And, I gotta say, I appreciate you taking it on faith, as it were."

He was rambling at her, and that at least was familiar. Pepper couldn't help smiling at him. Just a little smile, the fond one she usually only directed at his back, saved for when he had done something unexpectedly sweet or actually agreed to something without arguing first. "Mr. Stark," she said, breaking into his monologue. "Thank you for saving my life."

The humor, the soft look that had appeared when she smiled, vanished, and he looked--sad. The expression was there for only an instant, and then his face was politely blank. He picked up the end of the towel and scrubbed it over his face. "Any time, Ms. Potts. Any time."

And then he turned and strode away, leaving Pepper feeling confused and inexplicably guilty, and free to wrestle again with her phone.

* * *

 _Could you have said anything_ _ **stupider,**_ _dumbass?_ Tony groaned as he ran up the stairs to his bedroom. Pepper had looked so much _better,_ and fortunately he'd not forgotten the circumstances, because the moment he saw her frowning on the couch instinct, habit, and desire had all told him to go over there and kiss her thoroughly. But he'd been a good boy and not freaked her out, and she'd handed him that apology which was more than he was expecting, and then--

\--Then she'd _thanked_ him. Using his last name. Like he was some random stranger who'd just happened to run across her in distress and been a five-minute hero.

He knew his reaction was irrational. He _knew_ it. She was being polite and grateful and proper and everything she should be. But the soft little statement had just about broken his heart again.

_So what did you do? Act just like the self-centered bastard you aren't supposed to be anymore._

Tony slung his towel into the corner of the room with a curse, then slammed into the bathroom and stared accusingly at himself in the mirror. He didn't look too bad, actually--sleep-deprived and unshaven, but not hung over--but all he really saw was the bafflement in Pepper's eyes.

_Now I owe_ _**her** _ _an apology._

Sighing, he stripped, then reached for his razor. The shower in the basement was just that; all the accoutrements he kept upstairs. "What's she doing, Jarvis?"

"Reprogramming her call waiting. And swearing quite creatively."

Tony barked a laugh. Pepper was, in many ways, simply irrepressible. "Has she had breakfast?"

"Coffee only. Shall I suggest it?" The AI sounded almost hopeful.

"Nah, I'll do it." Tony shaved quickly, decided that he didn't need to trim the mustache until Tuesday at least, and rinsed his face. It was while he was reaching for his cologne that he realized that Pepper had been through the room.

Diverted, he went looking, and wasn't sure whether to be relieved or worried that she had taken only a few things. "She didn't touch her jewelry," he murmured to himself, frowning down at the drawer that held the small collection of cases and trays. _Does she think I gave it to her?_

He hadn't gotten into the habit of buying her jewelry yet, aside from the watch he'd given her for Christmas the year before; he bought her shoes instead, to her mingled chagrin and delight. He wasn't sure why he chose footwear over gems; maybe because jewelry was such an ordinary lover's gift, maybe because she really loved shoes more.

Though once they were married, and she couldn't _argue_ any more, he planned on buying her anything that caught his fancy or hers. _Not to mention, there's Mom's jewels in the safe._

Some of those were out of date and others would not suit Pepper, as his mother's coloring had been quite different. But several were classic pieces, and anyway it was the symbolism of the thing. His mother would have approved--as long as he was married first, which was why Tony hadn't yet given them to Pepper.

"If I may, sir, Pepper was in a hurry when she came through," Jarvis interjected. "She will probably wish to return and make a more thorough pass."

Tony sighed and closed the drawer. The AI's statement was meant to be reassuring, but he found it depressing instead. "All right. Be sure and let Severin know about the changes."

"Of course," Jarvis replied. Tony dressed, wondering what his housekeeper would think, and knowing that he would never find out. Severin kept his opinions to himself and his mouth firmly shut, and was paid well for it. Tony trusted the man enough to allow him into his house, though he hardly ever actually saw Severin; cleaning was usually done during the weekdays while Tony was out. It was a good arrangement, especially with Jarvis there to keep an extra eye on things.

Pepper was in the kitchen when Tony came down, putting bread into the toaster, and he managed to muster a casual expression. "Who won?"

She sniffed and pressed down the lever. "Me. And I'm mentally composing a scathing letter to the programmers as we speak."

Tony chuckled, relieved that she didn't seem hurt or pissed. _At least at me._ "You want an omelet?"

Pepper blinked. "All right, sure."

He fixed them both omelets as Pepper made more toast. She didn't have to ask him what he wanted on it; she'd ordered breakfast for him many times, though as far as he could remember she had not, in 2005, yet progressed to the point of making it for him when he was running late for some meeting or other. "Thanks for starting the coffee," he said casually as he whisked eggs and milk.

She shrugged, buttering a slice. "I didn't think you'd be up so early. Jarvis said you were asleep downstairs."

So she'd been checking up on him. Out of concern, he wondered, or the desire to avoid him? "I was, but I think my own stink woke me up."

That won him a brief smirk, though he had to catch it out of the corner of his eye. Having a live-in girlfriend had done a lot for his awareness of personal hygiene, Tony had to admit; there were few things as ego-deflating as going in for a kiss and having the object of one's desire wrinkle her nose and shove one away with the tart comment that one reeked.

_Though half the time you can convince her to join you--_

Tony firmly suppressed the thought of Pepper in the shower, alone or with him, and concentrated on the omelets. The morning felt almost normal, which just made it all the more weird--they often made a meal together, and might even be dressed while doing it, but they moved together, bumping hips and exchanging the occasional kiss or touch. Now Pepper poured and doctored his coffee, but set it on the counter instead of handing it to him, and he was taking care to stay out of her personal space.

It felt _wrong._

Tony told the feeling to get stuffed, and dished up the food while Pepper set the table. It was enough to have her sitting opposite him, recovering from a near-death experience and--he reminded himself sternly--willing to stay put for the moment. _Take it day by day, Stark._

They ate companionably, chatting about Jarvis and his programming for lack of another topic. When breakfast was finished, Tony folded his napkin and set it down, then leaned back in his chair. "So what do you want to do with the day? Take a walk, maybe?"

Pepper stared at him. "I plan to get Jarvis to bring me up to date on your schedule and on the world in general. I have a lot to relearn if I want to get back to work."

"What? Are you sure that's a good idea, Pepper?" He sat up straight, alarmed. "I think you need more healing time--"

She shook her head sharply, flinching just slightly. "I _need_ to get back to work, Mr. Stark. The longer I put it off..."

 _...The more scared she'll get._ He could fill in _that_ blank, no problem, but he didn't have to agree to it. "Trust me, Ms. Potts, I want you back riding my ass as soon as possible, but _not_ at the expense of your health. And don't think I didn't see that wince, by the way. Take it easy for a day or two, give yourself a chance to adjust."

Pepper folded her arms, that stubborn expression appearing, and Tony braced himself for a fight, but once again Jarvis intervened. "Ms. Potts, it will take more than one day for you to absorb all that you need to know. I will prepare a general history of the past four years for you to peruse today, and we can proceed to specifics tomorrow."

Her stormy expression subsided somewhat, and Tony silently blessed his artificial majordomo. "...All right," Pepper said grudgingly. "But I don't plan on wasting any time."

Tony rolled his eyes theatrically. "I expect no less. Just...take it easy, okay? Pushing won't help you get your memory back."

Pepper bit her lip, looking suddenly vulnerable, and he had to smother the desire to reach across the table to her. "I know," she said, her voice low. "But as long as I'm _doing_ something--"

She didn't have to finish that sentence either. "Healing _is_ a job, Potts," he told her, giving her his best supercilious look to make her smile again. "And it should be at the top of your list."

Jarvis broke in again. "In addition, Ms. Potts, if I may remind you, there are four seasons of _CSI_ you have not yet seen."

Pepper's eyes widened. "You're right--have Grissom and Sara--" She broke off and shook her head. "That's _cheating,_ Jarvis."

Tony snickered uncontrollably. "Why, Pepper Potts, I would never have imagined you as a _fangirl._ "

She shot him a killing look. "Just for that, I won't volunteer to clear the table." She got up and strode out.

"Weak!" Tony called after her, and began collecting plates, still snickering.

He tried to keep out of her way for the rest of the morning, figuring that she was dealing with enough without having his presence added to the mix. The fact that Jarvis was still monitoring her closely was about the only thing that let him do it, but he managed to fill the time until noon, tackling a bit of the paperwork that Pepper usually handled. As always on the rare occasions that he did so, Tony came out shuddering and reminding himself to give her another raise.

When he'd passed through after breakfast, Pepper had already been working with Jarvis in the living room, firing off questions at the AI as he brought her up to date on current events through the TV screen. When Tony came back, though, the room was quiet, and Pepper lay curled up on the couch, sound asleep.

The sight made his throat contract. No matter how tough Pepper tried to be, she was clearly still recovering, and Tony wondered with some exasperation how he was going to keep her from wearing herself out. _At least Jarvis is on my side._

He found a light blanket in one of the guest rooms and covered her up. She didn't move, so he risked pressing a kiss to her hair, aching to scoop her up again and carry her to bed. _That would probably wake her._ And if she did, she would probably slap him. Or try to leave, which would be worse.

Sighing, Tony took himself off, and went to see about lunch.

Pepper was still sleepy when she came to the table, but he refrained from teasing her. When she eyed the plate full of sandwiches dubiously, he pretended affront. "I assure you, Ms. Potts, I'm perfectly capable of constructing a decent sandwich."

She blinked, then shook her head, smiling. "I'm sure you are--it's not that, Mr. Stark. It's--well, I don't think I've ever seen you actually sit down to three meals in a row without prompting before."

It was his turn to be taken aback. Tony raised both brows and sat down. "It's a new habit," he said thoughtfully, and found himself hoping that she wouldn't ask where it came from. Pepper hadn't brought up their relationship beyond her earlier apology, and he was wary of mentioning it just yet.

She rested her chin on her hand and selected a sandwich, putting it onto her plate but not yet tasting it. "There's so much I'm missing," she said after a moment, sounding...defeated. "Jarvis is right, it's going to take me days to catch up."

Tony reached over with a bag of potato chips and shook out a generous pile onto her plate. "Pepper. Please. You just got out of the hospital _yesterday._ You're not superhuman, even if you act like it sometimes." He wondered with a little dread how often they were going to have this argument.

Pepper sighed. "I asked Jarvis the odds of me getting my memory back." Her eyes met his, and Tony didn't answer, not willing to admit that he hadn't had the courage to pose the question himself. "They're less than forty percent. And that's just for part of it."

"It's early yet," he repeated feebly, unable to face the possibility with her staring right at him. "You have to give yourself _time."_

She shook her head absently. "I don't think I'm hungry," she said, and stood up. Before Tony could muster another argument, she was gone.

He thought about chasing after her, but he honestly didn't know what he could say to make her come back and eat. If she needed space, the least he could do was give it to her.

Tony stared down at his own sandwich, and realized that he didn't have an appetite any longer either. "Jarvis? Where is she?"

The AI sounded sympathetic. "Pepper is descending to the beach for a walk. She has promised to stay within range of the house cameras."

 _Exercise is probably a good thing_ was really all he could think. Tony wrapped up their plates with automatic movements and put them into the refrigerator, and retreated to his workshop. "Let me know when she comes back in."

It was a long afternoon. Tony puttered until Jarvis told him that Pepper had returned from her walk, and then he worked on plans for a next-generation arc reactor--the full size. It pulled him down into a haze of creation, letting him set worry aside for the duration as he ran schematics and simulations past Jarvis' eagle eye. In fact, it took a while for the repetitive clonking noise to rouse him from his focus.

Pepper was standing at the base of the stairs, a tray in one hand and her other fist knocking on the glass door. Her cheeks held a hint of pink, and Tony could guess why--her passcode, at least the one she remembered, no longer worked. He sat up quickly from his thinking slouch. "Jarvis, open the door for her."

With a click, the lock gave way and Pepper came in. "I'm sorry," she began, but Tony bounced to his feet.

"No, sorry, my fault really, I didn't even think--" He walked over to her, embarrassed at having forgotten something so basic.

Pepper held up a hand, her blush deepening but a bit of a smile appearing, strained but genuine. "Don't. Please. We're going to run into a lot of these things."

Tony scrubbed at his hair, hanging his head a little. "I should have thought about it, though."

She shrugged and shifted the tray to her other hand. "You may be a genius, Mr. Stark, but you're not omniscient."

He flashed her a grin. " _Am_ a genius, thank you very much. Jarvis, we need to set Pepper up with a new passcode." He took the tray from her without really looking at the contents and set it down on the nearest workbench.

"Of course." One of the dormant terminals lit up. "Ms. Potts, please approach Terminal Three. The current security system has a biometric layer, but your prints are already on file."

Pepper shook her head, looking amused, and did as the AI bade her, taking a seat in front of the terminal's keyboard. Tony glanced around, and suddenly saw the Mark II suit hanging in one dark corner. _Oops. She has no idea yet about the whole Iron Man thing, and I'm not sure this is the time to tell her..._

Fortunately, she seemed absorbed in Jarvis' instructions, and Tony wandered casually away to another terminal. A few keystrokes and the suit was lowered gently into one of the sub-floor storage compartments with scarcely a rattle.

When he looked back, Pepper was just pushing away from the keyboard, and didn't seem to have noticed at all. "Now, what can I do for you, Potts?" he asked cheerfully. "Miss me already?"

Pepper snickered. "I realized that you didn't eat lunch either," she said, nodding at the tray, which Tony now noticed held several covered containers. "And it's past dinnertime."

Normality. Feeding him wasn't in Pepper's original job description, but she'd added it as a duty within a few months of being hired, commenting tartly when he teased her that he was easier to handle when his blood sugar wasn't in his socks.

And he _was_ hungry.

Tony pried off the various lids, finding the last of the leftover soup, most of the sandwiches and chips from lunch, and a pile of carrot and celery sticks with ranch dressing to dip them in. "Great!" He blinked at the single set of silverware. "You forgot the other spoon, though."

Pepper smiled again. "Oh, I ate already."

She was out the door and halfway up the stairs before he could muster words past the disappointment.


	5. Chapter 5

Pepper sighed and set down her BlackBerry. It was ten in the morning and Tony had already called three times since leaving the house at seven-thirty. Normally such behavior betokened either distraction on his part, or a desire to tease her--certainly not uncommon--but she had no information he was seeking, and he'd been serious each time. She didn't know whether to be flattered, annoyed, or just freaked out that he wouldn't stop checking up on her.

 _At least he finally went to work._ He'd stayed home for two days despite Pepper's protests, naturally stubborn and unnaturally quiet. But either she or Jarvis had finally convinced him that she was well enough to be left on her own.

She was seriously tempted to just let the next call go to voicemail, but it seemed unkind somehow. _At least I know how to work the wretched thing now._ She hadn't quite dared touch her laptop just yet; not that she expected more than perhaps an operating system upgrade, but Pepper knew her own methods, and she wasn't sure she was ready to face her own cryptic shorthand notes when she didn't know what they were referring to.

_Coward._

Pepper sighed, and rubbed her eyes, leaning her elbows on her desk. The little home office was new to her, though Tony had assured her it had been put in for her in late 2006. It was an eerie mixture of strangeness and familiarity--she recognized things like the framed photos on the wall and the novelty pens in the holder, but the laptop was a later model than she remembered and the chair, while set at exactly the right angle for her back, was completely new to her.

Once again she probed her memory for any trace of the missing time, without success. Her brain insisted with perfect logic that it was 2005. Pepper knew she should just let it go, that pressing for more would probably push any memories further away, but she couldn't _help_ it. Her entire life had been turned upside down in one morning and shaken until the pieces had fallen onto the floor, and she felt like she was working from outdated plans in trying to put them back together.

_I never expected my life to turn into a damned soap opera cliché!_

A faint, nearly tuneless humming reached her ears; Severin was passing by in the corridor. Tony's housekeeper had arrived at nine-thirty, grunted at the sight of her, and gone about his duties without so much as an expression of surprise. Pepper had only seen the crabbed little man perhaps twice before; he had been working for Tony for years. In fact, if she recalled correctly--though Pepper was less inclined to trust her memory than usual--Severin had worked for the elder Starks for a decade before their deaths.

She had to wonder what he made of his employer. Tony had built robots to vacuum the carpets and wash the floors, even scrub the tubs, but it was Severin who stocked the house with paper goods and clean towels, collected Tony's laundry and sent it out to be cleaned, and performed all the little chores that were outside a robot's abilities or Tony's interest in programming. And if he had any opinions at all, he never ventured them.

Pepper knew better than to go out and try to start a conversation, though she had a sudden desire to talk to someone--anyone--who wasn't her boss or her boss' computer. Severin would just grunt again and detour around her.

But the idea took hold. Pepper sat up straight, tapping one finger against her lips, not really seeing the terminal on her desk through which Jarvis had been tutoring her in remedial current events. _Why not? There's no reason I can't leave for a bit. It'll probably do me good, in fact. I need to get a glimpse of real life._ Three days of cramming history in the mornings and watching crime drama in the afternoon was leaving her feeling distinctly claustrophobic.

"Screen off," she told Jarvis firmly. "I'm going out for lunch."

The AI did not reply, but the screen darkened, and Pepper rose to go find some shoes and socks. Now that it had occurred to her, the desire to get out of the house for a few hours was strong. Tony's house was something of a refuge, true, but it was also limiting for all its size. _And it's only been four years. Malibu can't have changed_ _ **that**_ _much._

The first snag came when Pepper picked up her purse and remembered that while she usually parked her car in the driveway at the front of the house, she had no idea where it now was. _Well, think about it. If you live here, it's probably with the rest of the cars in the garage._

She was a little uncertain about going down to Tony's sanctum when he wasn't there, but the door accepted her palmprint and code without hesitation, clicking open easily and letting her through. The row of cars, however, presented another problem--her familiar silver Audi wasn't among them.

_Great. Did that get upgraded too?_

The morning of her release from the hospital was somewhat foggy, but Pepper did remember pulling keys out of her purse at some point. Yes, there they were, in the pocket where she always put them--no house keys, but three sets of car keys. The lack of house keys made sense, since the mansion was accessed by code rather than more old-fashioned methods; but Pepper looked at the car keys with some trepidation. It wasn't hard to match them with specific vehicles, but--

_Tony lets me_ _**drive** _ _those?_

There was absolutely no way that she was going to take a fifty-year-old classic sports car on a lunch drive. However, the key ring also held a remote clicker, and when Pepper pressed the button, the sleek little Mercedes convertible at the end of the row purred to life.

"Terrific," Pepper muttered. "The cars start themselves now." She wondered as she climbed into the car if it was one of Tony's little "upgrades", but given that there seemed to be no ignition slot at all she had to conclude that it was a manufacturer feature.

It was a _sweet_ car, though. The instant Pepper cleared the garage tunnel and broke out into the sun, her aggravation melted away, and she pushed the button to lower the top and laughed as the wind swept in.

The drive into town was swift, and Pepper even found a hairbrush in the glove compartment, exactly where she would have put one, to repair the damages caused by driving with the top down. She pulled the scrunchie from the handle, smoothed out her tangles, and pulled her hair into a casual twist; the sore spot on her scalp was hardly more than tender now.

She spent a glorious two hours. Some shops had come and gone, but her favorite coffee bar was still right where she'd left it, and so was the deli where they knew her by name. If she didn't pay too much attention, Pepper could pretend that nothing was wrong at all, that she was just taking a rare and well-deserved day off to relax and enjoy herself. She bought a new pair of sunglasses--nothing expensive or high-end, just something to shield her eyes on the trip back to the house--and treated herself to some ice cream, a new historical mystery, and half an hour on a park bench, just soaking up fresh air and life.

She was reaching for the Mercedes' remote when her BlackBerry rang again, and she barely glanced at the caller ID. "Yes, Mr. Stark?"

"Where are you?" His voice was tight.

"Downtown, I went out for lunch." Pepper frowned. "Why?"

"I came home and you weren't here." The words were precisely spoken, and Pepper knew that tone. He was angry; not just annoyed, but really angry, a rare event and a significant one. Normally her job was either to soothe that anger or direct it, but Pepper felt her own temper rising in return.

"Jarvis could have told you where I went," she reminded him shortly. "I didn't sneak out."

"Pepper, you--" He broke off, and she could picture him squeezing his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose for control. "You're not entirely healed yet. I don't think you should be out by yourself."

The pleasure she'd taken in freedom was fading, and Pepper raised her chin even though he wasn't there to see it. "You're entitled to your opinion, Mr. Stark," she said stiffly. "But I am a competent adult and free to go where I wish." _And if you tell me I'm_ _ **not**_ _competent--_

He said something she couldn't quite make out--probably an obscenity--then sighed harshly. "I know that," he said after a moment. "But will you please come home now?"

His flat tone made her want to do precisely the opposite, but she'd been about to leave anyway. And, Pepper had to acknowledge bleakly, she still didn't have any place else to go.

 _I should do something about that,_ she thought distractedly. "All right. I'm on my way."

She clicked off the connection and started the Mercedes, pointing it back towards the mansion. One of the first things she had done that noon was check her bank balance; she was prudent with money, so she had no worries, but it was good to know her assets exactly. The figure had startled her, however. _I guess Tony's still in the habit of giving me bonuses whenever he feels like it._

If she wanted to, Pepper could afford quite a few nights in the best hotel Malibu had to offer, not that she would be that extravagant. In fact, she could put a down payment on a _house._

 _You promised to stay for a while,_ her conscience reminded her.

Pepper's lips tightened. "A few days," she muttered. "I could leave tomorrow."

 _You were lovers. He's probably frightened about you being gone,_ the insidious whisper went on.

And that made Pepper pull over onto the shoulder, suddenly even angrier. She threw the car into park with a jerk and slammed her palms on the steering wheel. _"She_ was his lover," she snapped to no one at all. "Not _me."_

And for an instant she hated herself, the four-years-older Virginia who had decided to give in to Tony Stark's obvious charms, who had known a year of them before disappearing in a puff of smoke and leaving Pepper dizzy and bewildered in a world that wasn't hers, with the responsibility of her boss' _heart_ on her hands. Because it was pretty clear that was what it was.

Not that Pepper thought it was more than a passing infatuation on his part--that was the worst of it. The Tony Pepper had known for years now specialized in one-night, three-day, one-week stands; he was capable of becoming temporarily fascinated by a woman for a little while, and the longer she held him off, the more fascinated he could get. The only conclusion Pepper could draw was that after holding him off for _years_ she herself had managed to captivate him for longer.

 _And he's such a little boy in some ways._ Still suffering, to some degree, from the sudden, tearing loss of his parents. Sure, he would tire of her sooner or later, and then there would be a mess the likes of nothing previous; but until then, to walk away from Tony was to hurt him in a way that Pepper just didn't think she was capable of.

"How could you _do_ this?" she raged at her silent, older self. "How could you be this stupid, this shortsighted?" Because Pepper _knew_ him. She knew his patterns, the way his mind worked--how he never allowed himself to really love, because to love was to lose. And she simply couldn't understand how she would have allowed herself to enter into a relationship that could only end in pain and loss and humiliation.

Pepper leaned her forehead against the steering wheel and choked out a few angry sobs, enough to loosen the knot of rage and hurt in her chest. As they subsided, she realized something else.

She didn't _want_ her memory back.

_I don't want to be the woman who gives up everything for a fling._

The thought spread a sort of cool calmness over her anger. Pepper put the car back into drive and pulled cautiously onto the road, smiling grimly. _At least the odds are on my side._

As she drove up the driveway, Pepper considered parking in the front, but her conscience twinged again, and she made for the garage instead. The car didn't really belong to _her,_ it belonged to the person she used to be. And it did deserve better than being left out to the wind and weather.

Tony was waiting in his workshop when she pulled the Mercedes into its spot--not working, not even sitting, just leaning against one table with his hands in his pockets and a careful lack of expression on his face. Pepper braced herself as she got out of the car, reminding herself to be fair, but instead of yelling, Tony merely pushed away from the table edge and approached. "Did you have a nice lunch?"

The complete absence of anger in his voice surprised her. It wasn't suppressed; it was _gone._ She eyed him warily, her purse in one hand and her new book in the other. "Yes, actually, I did."

He nodded once. "Good."

Pepper looked at him, taking in details with automatic care. He looked tired--not the sleep-deprived exhaustion of the aftermath of one of his creativity binges, but worn, like he had too much on his mind to sleep. He'd pulled his tie askew as usual, but he still looked like he'd come straight from the boardroom, a man conscious of and confident in his power.

And he was afraid.

The realization took her aback, even after her earlier revelations. "I'm sorry," he said, quiet and blunt. "You're absolutely correct, you have every right to go where you want."

The simple statement immediately made Pepper feel guilty, but she reminded herself sternly that she had no reason for guilt. Nonetheless, her tone was softer than it might have been. "Yes, I do."

A muscle twitched in his jaw. "Will you agree to letting me know if you do? Maybe just for the next week or so? For the sake of my nerves."

It was a reasonable request, under the circumstances, and she couldn't quite refuse. "All right."

Tony released a long breath, then pulled one hand from his pocket and held it out. "Truce?"

Pepper transferred her book to her left hand and met his with her right one. As it always was, the touch of his skin was a small shock--the sheer _life_ pouring off him was something she never quite got used to. But he shook her hand once, briskly, then let her go, stuffing his hand back into his pocket hastily.

Pepper took her own deep breath to settle herself. "Did you eat lunch?"

Tony shook his head. "I wanted to eat with you."

That _definitely_ brought the guilt back. "Well, you still need food. Come upstairs and I'll sit with you while you eat."

She headed for the stairs, and Tony followed.

* * *

He couldn't sleep.

Normally, insomnia sent Tony to his workshop or to the bottle, but he'd curbed his drinking drastically over the past year and he was wary of starting again. It hadn't been that much of a temptation for a while; not only was he aware that his drinking distressed Pepper, her mere presence cut down on the urge.

But now that she was...not gone, never gone, his mind chanted desperately, but temporarily cut off from him--the restlessness and melancholy was resurging, forcing him off of his couch in the basement and onto the starlit terrace overlooking the sea.

Part of him acknowledged ironically that perhaps the broken-down couch was part of the reason he couldn't sleep; it was fine when he was reeling from staying up two days straight, but it was a far cry from a high-end mattress with room to stretch out. But somehow he hadn't been able to bring himself to sleep in what had been _their_ room.

Not without Pepper curled up beside him. Anything else felt like a travesty.

And the rest of Tony knew that he couldn't sleep because he was worried, he was frightened, he was missing the feel and the scent of his love in his arms, her slow breath against his neck, her leg thrown over his.

He hissed out a breath and propped his arms on the low wall of the terrace. Without a moon the world was muted, details lost in the darkness, though the ocean was hushing and glimmering under the fairy silver of the stars. The lack of light felt good in a way, wrapping around him, letting him drop the mask he'd had to wear since Pepper had woken in their bed and tried to slip away.

_Something changed today, and I don't know what._

It had been absolutely _terrifying_ to come home and find her gone. Tony hadn't even realized that she'd taken a car, since Happy had dropped him off at the front door; she'd just been _gone._

Jarvis had had to up his speaker volume by half again to be heard over Tony's shouts. And it had taken a stern warning from the AI--as stern as Jarvis got, anyway--to calm him enough to make a reasonable phone call.

He'd managed to hold onto his temper, though. Barely. And it was a good thing, because between when Pepper had hung up and when she'd got home, Tony had realized how fragile a hold he had on her.

_She's just had her life thrown into chaos. She's clinging to work because it's familiar, but upset her too much, dumbass, and she might quit._

_And leave._

_And then what'll you do?_

The idea was pure panic in theoretical form. He'd had to remind himself, repeatedly, that Pepper didn't remember that she loved him, or that she had _many_ reasons to stay. Fortunately, she seemed to have accepted his apology.

She'd looked so much better when she'd come back, so _alive,_ her face pink and her eyes brighter. Tony had had to grit his teeth to keep from just scooping her into his arms and kissing her dizzy, because that was exactly what he _did_ when the love got to be too much to hold in.

Love...it was weird, he mused silently, tilting his head back to see the stars. He'd loved his parents, had a couple of crushes as a teen; it could even be argued that he loved Rhodey, the brother he'd never thought he'd have. But the first true love for him was, quite simply, the last, and in the depths of the night and of his mind, he wasn't ashamed to put it that way.

_Virginia-Pepper-Potts. Stubborn, gorgeous, smart, a total pain in my ass...I didn't stand a chance._

It was as though all the opportunities to love he'd never taken were concentrated on her, pouring out over her in as wide a stream as she'd permit. It was a glory and a wonder to him that he was capable of feeling so much, and a greater wonder that it was _returned._

Her love was quieter, he thought, but she'd been caring for him longer--longer than he had known how he felt, anyway. There were times when it seemed like he had always loved Pepper, consciously or not.

But now the memory of that love had been erased--no, not that, Tony corrected hastily. _Hidden._ Concealed for a while. Pepper still loved him; she just didn't know it--

_Hell._

He bent his head, closing his eyes wearily. And wondered if she was having trouble sleeping too.


	6. Chapter 6

"Today's topics may cause you some distress," Jarvis said when Pepper sat down at her desk. She raised a brow at the monitor and sipped from her coffee.

"All right," she said after a moment, wary but curious. The schedule the AI had created for her listed Stark Industries-related history for the morning, and she wondered what had happened. "I assume you're talking about Obadiah's death?"

It had been a shock to find out that the company's genial, energetic CFO was dead. She had mentioned him in passing the night before, wondering out loud how he felt about the results of the last election, and Tony's face had closed down into a blank. _He's dead_ was all Tony had said, but there was obviously more to the story, and while she hadn't pressed, Pepper couldn't help wondering what had happened.

"In part," Jarvis replied. "Many things have happened during the past eighteen months that may seem incredible, but they are necessary if you are to rebuild your store of knowledge."

Pepper sighed. "Cryptic doesn't suit you, Jarvis."

The AI _didn't_ sigh, but she got the feeling it would have liked to have that affectation available. "I am trying to prepare you, Ms. Potts. Mr. Stark has me monitoring your vital signs, and I am to alert him should you become distressed in any way. However, I do not wish to cause him unnecessary distress either."

Pepper thought that over for a moment. The notion that Jarvis was listening to her very heartbeat was annoying but not terribly surprising, and she had to admit that the circumstances over the weekend had rather warranted the caution. _We're way past the weekend, though._

"Can I countermand that one?" she asked at last.

"No."

"Oh well," she muttered into her coffee. "All right, I'll try to be Zen about whatever it is you're not telling me. Can we get on with it, please?"

The screen in front of her brightened with a graph of stock prices, and Jarvis began his lecture.

Three hours later slow tears were trickling down her cheeks, but Pepper kept her breathing deep and even, so as not to force Jarvis to alert Tony. It had taken the AI only about forty minutes to cover the company's normal progress; the rest of the time had been taken up with Tony's kidnapping and its aftermath. Jarvis had presented the events mainly from the viewpoint of the company alone, but Pepper's imagination was doing a fine job of filling in the more personal details.

It felt _horrific._ _How could I forget all this? He was gone_ _ **three months...**_

She could barely imagine what that must have been like. The agony of realization, and then the slow, equally painful death of hope, because while Tony had an unmatched propensity to land on his feet, three months was far too long to have believed he was still alive.

And yet, he'd survived. Come back with new technology and a new attitude, and sent his company into convulsions with the announcement that it would make no more weapons.

And within days, Stark Industries' headquarters was half-destroyed, Obadiah had died in a plane crash, and Tony Stark had told the world that he and his latest creation were one and the same.

 _Grandstanding,_ Pepper thought bitterly as she watched a recording of the press conference. Then she wondered why it made her so angry; it was really nothing less than might be expected from Tony.

Rummaging absently in her desk, Pepper found a tissue and mopped her face dry as the recording ended. "I think...I need a break."

"A sound decision," Jarvis approved. "After lunch we can continue with company history to the present day."

Pepper frowned, not liking the idea. "Come on, Jarvis--there has to be more to this than what you've shown me."

"Of course there is," the AI agreed. "And you were a vital part of these events. But..."

It wasn't hard to follow where Jarvis was so blatantly pointing her. "But it'll upset me, and you'll have to call Mr. Stark."

"Precisely." He paused a moment. "However, there are a number of alternatives."

Pepper grinned. "Your biosensors don't extend as far as the beach, do they?"

For something with no face at all, Jarvis could convey a smile very well. "They do not."

She tossed away the tissue and rose to stretch. "I think I feel the need for some sun, Jarvis. How about I take my laptop down to the beach after I eat something?"

"The sunblock is in the mudroom on the ground floor," Jarvis replied serenely.

A salad and a generous application of SPF 30 later, Pepper lugged a folding deck chair, her laptop, and a bottle of iced tea down to the beach. Sunscreen notwithstanding, she settled in the shade; it would make it easier to read the screen of the computer. Once she was comfortable--shoes kicked off, toes dug into the sand, drink to hand--she took a deep breath. "Okay. Let's have it."

_Private e-mails between Rhodey and Obadiah and Pepper. Brave words that didn't quite hide despair or grim determination._

_A brief phone call that crackled with static and emotion. "We found him, Pepper--he's okay--"_

_Press photos of Tony thin and battered, one arm in a sling, staring out at the crowd in front of him with eyes that bespoke horrors._

_Scans made by Jarvis of what now kept Tony's heart from being sliced to ribbons. Mark I, Mark II. A glass box._

_The real reason the Iron Man suit worked the way it did._

_Board minutes, detailing Obadiah's scheming and treachery._

_An image of Tony and Pepper in the workshop, both scowling, both poised on the edge of some decisive moment._

_The files she'd retrieved from headquarters._

_Obadiah prying the reactor from Tony's chest._

_Obadiah's suit._

_Betrayal. Death._

_Change._

Pepper stayed on the beach long after the last streaks of sunset had vanished, listening to the waves stroke the shore. The iced tea was long gone and her computer sat closed in her lap, Jarvis silenced, but she didn't move.

Nor did she cry. It was all too big, too strange, too deep; too much. The Tony she knew wasn't just changed; he was _gone,_ outgrown like a too-small skin, and the man who lived in the house clinging to the cliff above her was as much a stranger as the self Pepper had lost. She didn't recognize the Obadiah who had sent Tony out to be murdered; she didn't recognize the Tony who'd come back with a purpose burning in the center of his chest.

And she didn't recognize the woman who had pushed the button to kill _both_ of them.

Pepper wondered distantly if it made more sense if one had lived through it. _Somehow I doubt it._

Eventually, her body called her back, demanding warmth, a bathroom, and something to drink. Pepper folded up her chair mechanically and trudged back up to the house, leaving the chair outside the mudroom with its fellows and letting herself quietly inside. No one waited for her at the top of the stairs, but she'd seen the silhouette watching out one of the main windows, and found enough curiosity to wonder how long he'd been standing there.

She went to bed, and in the morning Tony was gone.

* * *

He hadn't wanted to leave her, but Jarvis had turned up evidence of SI weapons being used in Georgia against U.N. peacekeepers. Even at supersonic speeds, though, it took hours to fly that far, and the long stretch of ocean below gave Tony time to brood.

Normally he liked the outbound flights. There was a lot of beauty to be found if one looked for it, and in between planning sessions with Jarvis Tony often let himself slip into a sort of trance, where thought trailed off and he and the suit and his reactor all became a whole, moving through time and space not as a weapon but as a work of creation.

Or he napped, trusting Jarvis to alert him if something came up. This time, though, he did neither. He arrowed into the dawn, thinking dark thoughts about guerilla fighters who didn't respect the lives of those trying to help them, and aware underneath of what he was leaving behind. And worrying.

He knew what Pepper had learned the day before; Jarvis had never tried to conceal her curriculum. Tony didn't like it; she was pushing herself way too hard. But there was no way to _stop_ Pepper, short of angering her enough to make her leave.

_God help me, I can't do that._

She hadn't come to him. Not with questions or concerns or even disbelief. _Hell, I'd settle for a tongue-lashing._ Whatever Pepper thought of the events of a year previous, she wasn't telling.

He hadn't felt so helpless since--

Tony pushed away the memory of Obadiah's insidious croon, his casual dismissal of everything Tony was--of Pepper's very _life_ \--and wondered instead what Pepper was up to. Was she sleeping? Crying? Packing to leave?

"What's she doing?" It had become a common question over the last week, and Jarvis always answered.

"She is in bed, sir," the level voice replied. "Vital signs do not indicate overt distress."

Tony breathed out a laugh that held little humor. "She's upset, but she's trying to hide it," he interpreted, and the AI did not deny the assessment. "I shouldn't have left."

"Sir, to be frank, Pepper would not thank you for neglecting your mission to watch over her without cause." Jarvis' voice held a touch of crispness.

Tony squeezed his eyes shut briefly in lieu of rubbing them. "Are you talking about Pepper as she was, Jarvis? Or Pepper now?" He knew he sounded bitter, but if he couldn't speak truth to his own computer--

The answer came laced with the sympathy that Tony didn't quite remember programming in. "Ms. Potts is a single person, no matter how you persist in thinking of her as two separate beings. She may make different choices now than she did a year ago, but her personality has not regressed or simplified. She still possesses the memories and experience of the last four years; she merely cannot access them with her conscious mind."

"You make it sound so simple," Tony grumbled.

"Humans are never simple," Jarvis countered. "But they often make things harder for themselves."

Tony had to snicker. "You've been uploading philosophy again, haven't you?"

"Psychology," the AI corrected. "I have been researching experimental treatments for retrograde amnesia."

"And?" Tony felt a surge of hope.

"Unfortunately, sir, there is still no conclusive pattern among successful treatments. The mind must choose its own time to heal."

Tony sighed. "Figures."

His mission was brief, and hearteningly easy. Iron Man's reputation seemed to have preceded him, because fully half the thugs Tony chased down dropped his weapons and surrendered the moment he lifted his gauntlets. And, as much fun as it was to blow things up, that suited him just fine.

The other half, though, got a few good shots in before they, too, went down, and the bruises made themselves felt as Tony started the long flight home. "One of these days we're going to have to come up with a better alternative to those anti-tank guns," he grumbled, punching through the sound barrier. "I'm getting tired of buffing the scratches out of this thing."

"Speaking as the one who actually does the buffing, I agree," Jarvis said. His mild sarcasm made Tony grin a little; he liked it when the AI snarked back. "Your fatigue levels are high; may I suggest a nap?"

"You know I never sleep on the way home." He _couldn't_ ; there was too much adrenaline still running around his system. Of course, he had _passed out_ a few times on return trips, but that was before certain upgrades to the armor. "Is Rhodey up yet? Patch me in."

The colonel came online yawning, but perked up at Tony's report. "Dude, nice job. You better be careful or the U.N. is gonna try to annex you."

Tony snorted. "Ban can try. Listen, wake up for me here. There's more you need to know about."

He kept the explanation of Pepper's accident and its results short, but Rhodes was quick to pick up the implications. "Damn, Tony. She doesn't remember anything about the last few years?"

"Not so far." Tony exhaled, briefly fogging his HUD. "It's only been a week, though."

"Still." Tony could picture Rhodes' expression of concern. "That's...complicated."

" _Just_ a bit. I don't need to tell you to keep this under your hat, do I? Pepper still has her job, but..."

"'Course not." Rhodes laughed a little. "You think I _like_ watching your stock price drop? No, actually I do, it's always entertaining, but you know what I mean. If it gets out that Pepper's off your back indefinitely, _somebody'll_ panic."

Tony relaxed. "Thanks, man."

"Now, tell me why the _hell_ you didn't let me know sooner!" The colonel's raised voice was just loud enough to make Tony wince.

"We weren't sure what was going to happen," Tony said, sticking to the truth if not all of it. "She was physically okay enough for the hospital to release her, and if you ever read your damned e-mail--"

"I've been off the Internet for the last few days," Rhodes replied, a hint of guilt creeping into his voice.

"Yeah, yeah, super-secret Air Force stuff," Tony teased. "Man, when are you going to retire and let me hire you?"

"When hell freezes over, you think I want to _work_ for you? You're worse than a four-star." Rhodes chuckled, and then his voice sobered.

"She doesn't remember that the two of you are together, does she?"

It hurt to say it. "No."

Rhodes let out a long breath. "Tony..."

In that one awkward word was more honest sympathy than Tony could deal with just then. "Yeah, well--sooner or later her memory has to come back, right?" He didn't wait for an answer. "Anyway, she'd probably like to see somebody besides me, so if you want to stop by--"

"Absolutely. I'll bring Chinese."

It was a relief in a way to have someone else know what was going on, Tony acknowledged to himself after signing off with Rhodes. Part of him had wanted to keep Pepper's amnesia a secret--to protect her, yes, but also because mentioning it to others would make it more real.

_But if Rhodey knows he can keep an eye on her too._

In the back of Tony's mind was also the thought that if something happened to _him,_ Pepper at least would have one other protector until she was well again. Once upon a time Tony had thought himself invincible, but that had ended in a spray of shrapnel, and now he counted every day a gift, even if he rarely spoke the name of the giver.

_Yinsen. What would you say to all this?_

It was a wistful, whimsical thought, but three months in the clammy darkness of their prison had taught Tony to value his savior's wisdom. He'd been angry for so long, until he'd finally realized that Yinsen had wanted the freedom he'd chosen.

The man's spare face rose in his memory, smiling gently, spectacles reflecting the red-gold of firelight. He'd been one of the few people who had looked at Tony and seen neither icon nor problem, but merely a man.

No words came to him, though, no whisper of counsel; just the compassion that had been an integral part of Yinsen. A part of Tony still grieved for the loss--not just of the man's life, but of his _potential_.

_Look what he did with me, after all._

But Yinsen would probably laugh kindly at him for the thought, and Tony let it go. The best way to remember him was to not waste his gift.

* * *

The house was quiet when Tony got home, and he was sweaty and starving despite the energy gels stocked in the suit. Getting out of the armor still took twice as long as putting it on, though the process was smoother than it used to be; and he deliberately kept himself from looking towards the corner where Pepper usually waited for his return. He didn't want to see it empty.

So when he stepped off the assembly platform, desperate for a shower, the sight of her actually _there_ made him jump. " _Fuck,_ Potts, you scared me."

Pepper didn't answer, just unwrapped her arms from around her knees and stood. Tony watched her approach and realized that he had no idea what to expect. Not the post-mission kiss he secretly treasured, probably not the scolding he usually ignored--

Pepper came to a halt in front of him, staring not at his face but at his chest. _Oh._ He lifted a hand in nervous reflex to tap the reactor.

"You could have told me, you know," she said softly, without lifting her eyes.

Tony's mouth twisted. "I _did._ You passed out cold."

Pepper sniffed gently, and extended a cautious forefinger. "...May I?"

"Hold on." Tony reached for the zipper that started on one side of his throat and crossed to the opposite shoulder and down, and pulled. A moment later he shrugged out of the top half of the coverall, letting it hang down around his waist like the peel of a particularly battered banana.

She hadn't been repulsed the first time, just torn; fascinated by the device, and appalled at what he'd endured. This time Pepper seemed more fascinated than horrified, but any thoughts he had on the subject fled as her fingers stroked over the reactor and brushed his skin.

He'd always had an active libido. Afghanistan, and its subsequent voluntary chastity, had given Tony a new respect for self-control, but the last year he had had Pepper in his bed as well as his heart. Worry and caution had muted his usual responses the past few days, but now...

Now all his senses were suddenly focused on the woman standing a few inches away. Her exploratory touch was sending fire along his nerves, and she smelled absolutely _delicious._ It took him locking every muscle to keep from just leaning in and taking the kiss he wanted, and giving her the one that had been waiting ever since she'd stirred in the hospital bed.

And then doing something blatant and very, very erotic right there, showers and missing memories be damned.

Tony gritted his teeth and reminded himself that while Pepper might not be disgusted by his implant, she _would_ be if he gave into his raging hormones. The lizard part of his brain urged him to try anyway--after all, she had been attracted to him for a long time, she'd said so herself when they first got together--but she couldn't remember and he was determined to be _good_ about this.

He'd seduced a few women who were reluctant, or at least pretended to be, but he'd never pushed himself on a truly unwilling one, and he was _not_ going to start now.

When Pepper's fingertip traced one of the shrapnel scars, though, he grunted involuntarily, and caught her hand firmly in his, pulling it away from his eager skin. "Playtime's over," he said roughly.

Her brows drew together, but when her eyes finally met his, he saw the pupils dilate as she finally took in his condition. She blushed and bit down on her lower lip, and he felt the tic in his cheek start up at the unconsciously seductive move.

"Sorry," she said in a low voice, and stepped back, pulling her hand free from fingers that he had a hard time opening. She turned away and walked to the stairs, her pace normal though every line of her body bespoke a desire to hurry. "I assume you're hungry," she said as she started up them, not looking back. "I'll put together some lunch."

Tony watched Pepper climb out of sight, long legs and bare feet, before he stripped off the rest of the neoprene and left it where it fell. But the grin on his face as he stepped into the shower was just about uncontrollable, because her scent had changed the second she'd figured out just how much she was turning him on. Deeper, richer--the unmistakable pheromones of arousal.

_Disgusted, my ass._

Humming, he turned the water on cold.


	7. Chapter 7

It was probably a good thing, Pepper thought, that she had reached the kitchen before she'd started to laugh.

As it was, she sat down at the little table and giggled helplessly into one hand, lest the sharp ears downstairs somehow sense her. She could hear the tinge of hysteria behind her amusement, but it seemed somehow justified.

Not that she was laughing at _Tony_ ; not by any means. He _should_ have looked silly, half-naked and resembling a diver distracted in the middle of suiting up; but he hadn't. He'd just been familiar. After all, she'd seen him in less.

Familiar...until she'd met his eyes.

It was herself Pepper laughed at, and the entire situation. At her own willful blindness, because that was exactly what it was. _I didn't_ _ **want**_ _to think about the fact that we had a relationship, so I didn't. Bad move._

Tony had flirted with her from the moment she'd been hired, and she'd never taken it as more than spinal reflex on his part. Pepper knew she was attractive, and that while her working appearance of tidy suits and restraint might not suit everyone, Tony had notoriously eclectic tastes. But she hadn't really thought--hadn't _let_ herself think--about what it might mean to be the exclusive focus of his attention.

To really be his lover.

Part of her wanted to go back downstairs and find out. Part of her wanted to leave the house, now, out of sheer embarrassment if nothing else.

And the rest of Pepper knew she could do neither. Giving in to her hormones was out of the question, and if she left Tony would most certainly come after her.

Something flickered in her mind, and Pepper frowned. An argument of some kind, stalking away into a sea-scented night, Tony catching hold of her arm--

Heat flooded her cheeks at the brief sensation of being pressed up against her car door and kissed very thoroughly. And then the memory was gone.

Pepper froze, searching after the elusive images, but there was nothing more--no sense of what the argument had been about, no notion of what had happened after the kiss. Even the memory itself felt less like recall now and more like something she'd been told about.

_Dammit!_

She relaxed taut muscles, sighing with frustration. Her mind raced, and she pressed her hands to her cheeks to try to cool them. The fragment was the first real proof she had that Tony was telling the truth about their relationship--not that she had disbelieved him, precisely, but it gave a new depth to the knowledge.

She sighed again as a new realization dawned as well. For all that Pepper didn't want to be the person she seemed to have been, the tiny glimpse of the past had wakened a terrible hunger to know more.

Pepper rose mechanically and went to the freezer to retrieve the homemade pizza she knew was there, then turned on the oven. Her mind continued to work, prying at the brief glimpse of her past, and she scarcely noticed when Tony came upstairs, hair still wet and the arc implant glowing through the hole in his shirt.

The gleam in his eyes faded as he took her in. "Everything okay, Potts?"

Pepper almost didn't tell him. He was more of a stranger than she'd thought, and the one short glimpse felt so terribly private.

But--

_He's been nothing but kind. And he's worried. Lovers or not, he deserves to know._

"I had a memory come back," she said slowly. "Just a glimpse, but it was real."

Tony-- _sharpened_ was the only word for it, Pepper thought. He took a step forward. "That's _good,_ Pepper. What was it?"

She shook her head. "It was personal. Private." She realized her hands were clasped together so hard that her fingers ached. "I just--Jarvis? How does it work when amnesiacs get their memories back?"

"It varies," the AI answered. "Some come back in small increments over time. Others experience what is known as a 'cascade' of memories, though that is much more rare. Such incidents can be overwhelming, even temporarily incapacitating."

Pepper jumped as she felt Tony's hand on the back of her neck, rubbing at the stiff tendons. "Relax, Potts. You're wound up tighter than a spring." The look he bent on her was sympathy and hope mingled, an expression any friend might wear. "Pushing won't help, remember?"

Her lips twitched at the pun, but she shook her head and stepped away to put the pizza in the oven. "Says the man who's made it into an art form."

He grinned. "We all have our flaws." Opening a cabinet, he took out two plates. "By the way, Rhodey's bringing dinner tonight."

"Oh, good." Pepper felt a surge of pleasure at the thought. "I'd like to see him."

Tony put the plates on the table and rubbed the back of his own neck, lips quirking. "He, uh...he does know that you've lost your memory." He waved a hand vaguely. "I can't remember how close you two were in 2005, but--"

The staticky recording she'd heard the day before rose in Pepper's memory, and the relief in Colonel Rhodes' voice; she remembered the e-mails Jarvis had shown her, the way Rhodes had done his best to keep her spirits and hope up.

And she'd always known he was a person she could trust.

"That's fine," she told Tony, and he nodded gratefully.

He finished setting the table while Pepper started a salad, and not until the last fork was in place did he speak again. "There were only three people who knew what really happened over there. Not counting Jarvis."

Pepper paused in tearing spinach and looked at him, surprised that he was bringing the subject up. Tony shrugged, a bit shy. "You, Obadiah, and Rhodey. I trust him implicitly, but...I'm glad you know again."

_Oh._

It probably wasn't a good idea in light of what had happened in the garage, but Pepper ignored caution. Putting down the greens, she walked over to Tony and hugged him.

The way his arms closed around her was no more familiar than the feel of the reactor pressed against her breastbone, but the way his forehead dropped to rest on her shoulder and the sigh that came out of him told her better than words that he needed the touch. He was good to hug, Pepper thought, warm and muscled and not _too tall._ She rubbed her cheek briefly against his damp hair, and felt him squeeze her a little more.

The complex, masculine smell of him filled her nose and headed for her backbrain, and Pepper let him go, stepping back before either of them made more of the embrace. Tony didn't fight her, but the way his hands lingered for an instant on her hips told her that her choice was wise. She smiled at him. "Do you want tomatoes in the salad?"

His answering smile was soft, almost shy again. "Sure."

Tony started yawning over his fourth slice of pizza, so when he'd finished it Pepper ordered him to go take a nap. He went with an alacrity that made her suspect he was either much more tired than he was letting on, or he was just pleased that she was back to telling him what to do. _Possibly both._

She cleaned up the kitchen in a thoughtful mood, trying to make sense of all the emotions churning through her. The day had ranged from fear for Tony's safety to the shock of the arc reactor, to arousal, and back to tenderness. _Every time I think I've got one of us pigeonholed, something changes._

When the last counter was wiped down Pepper found a hat--a broad-brimmed straw that was undeniably feminine, and thus must be hers though she didn't recognize it--and went out for a walk on the beach. Out of curiosity, she walked south until she found the spot where the cliff path had fallen.

It wasn't a long drop, but she shivered nonetheless. _I wonder what it was like. Brief, I guess._ If Tony had found her unconscious, she had probably been knocked out on the way down.

Pepper turned and went back in the other direction, concentrating deliberately on the waves and the gulls to soothe her mind and distract it from trying to pull up more memories. That one flashing glimpse was like a peek through a locked door--she wanted to hammer and shout until the latch gave way.

The ocean gradually worked its magic, however, and she wandered along dreamily, examining interesting shells and watching the sandpipers working busily. In the life Pepper _could_ remember, she didn't usually have time for long walks, but she did sometimes take a break and come down to stand by the water for a few minutes, just to get some peace and fresh air. Once or twice Tony had even playfully snatched her phone from her hand and sent her out, claiming she looked "peaked, go get some sun before you grow fungus, Potts."

When the sun neared the horizon Pepper turned back, slightly sweaty but more relaxed. Her timing was perfect; as she hung up the hat Jarvis announced that Colonel Rhodes was turning in at the gate.

He smiled when she opened the front door, a large and promising brown bag tucked under his arm and his sunglasses in his other hand. "Hey, Pepper, you're looking good."

Pepper stepped back to let him in. "Hi Jimmy. I'm glad you're here."

Rhodes crossed the threshold, hesitated just slightly, and leaned in to press a light kiss to her cheek. " _I'm_ glad you're okay. You scared Tony pretty good, you know."

Pepper closed the door. "Apparently." In retrospect, she knew that he'd been terrified, but at the time she had been so confused by his reactions that it hadn't really penetrated.

As if sensing her unease, Rhodes dropped the subject and headed towards the kitchen. "How's the head?"

They chatted lightly as Pepper set the table and Rhodes unpacked the bag, and as she made iced tea Pepper realized that talking to him was a huge relief. _There's no disconnect._ The Jimmy of now was the same as the Jimmy she remembered, treating her with easy affection and the respect of equals. There were no hidden pitfalls, no reactions that didn't make sense.

Rhodes took the pitcher from her and reached for a glass. "Here, lemme do that. Why don't you go get the Tin Man? The food's getting cold."

Pepper stared at him. "Tin Man? What--oh." The joke came clear, and she snickered. "Jimmy, that's terrible."

He grinned, but she saw him flinch just slightly, and sobered. "What?"

He shook his head, a bit of a flush tinting his cheeks. "Sorry, Pepper. I for--well--it was _your_ joke."

It was her turn to wince. "Oh." She shrugged. "Don't worry about it, Jimmy. It's going to happen."

Rhodes didn't look appeased, but he nodded, and Pepper went to find her...boss.

Going up to the master bedroom didn't feel weird--she had often had to rouse him from sleep for a meeting or a trip, and had even stopped caring much that he frequently chose to sleep in the buff. But the bed was empty when she opened the door, the covers still neatly tucked in.

Pepper frowned. _I know he was tired--didn't he sleep after all?_ "Jarvis? Where is Mr. Stark?"

"He is in his workshop. Shall I wake him?"

She shook her head in exasperation. "Yes, tell him Jimmy's here and dinner's ready. What's he doing down there?"

Severin was the only one who ever made the bed, and the realization hit her at the same time as Jarvis' reply. "Tony has not slept in this room since you returned from the hospital, Ms. Potts."

It made her heart _hurt._ "Why not?" she asked through stiff lips, though the answer was pretty clear.

"He has not told me why," Jarvis answered gently. "You will have to ask him yourself."

She didn't want to...and she wasn't going to. Pepper stood for a moment longer, looking around the big airy space, examining it as she hadn't allowed herself to do despite a couple of visits to pick up more of her things. It matched her memories in most particulars, but there was a small bookshelf in one corner that hadn't been there before, an extra pillow on the bed, and--how had she missed it before?--the wooden Balinese mask she'd picked up in college hanging over the door.

All the touches of someone not only sleeping in the bed, but at home in the room.

"Pepper." Somehow the voice didn't startle her, and she turned to see Tony in the doorway, sleep-rumpled and wary. He had changed into shorts at some point, ragged denim cut-offs, and bruises were darkening into visibility all down the side of one leg. "Are you okay?"

She shrugged. "I was looking for you. And...me, I guess." Pepper frowned at his leg. "Does...does that happen a lot?"

He glanced down, barely seeming to notice the damage. "Depends on what they hit me with. That's nothing, really."

She winced inwardly, wondering if that was typical macho downplaying or if he often came back with worse injuries. Tony's lips quirked up. "Relax, Pepper. Seriously, it's not bad, and I'll get an ice pack later. You set me up a whole routine."

Pepper shook her head. "I thought the armor was supposed to _protect_ you."

It was his turn to shrug. "It does. Physics just has the edge sometimes." He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "Now come on, Potts, or Rhodey's gonna eat all the cashew chicken."

The meal was pleasant. Rhodes' presence defused most of the tension, Pepper thought, and they kept the conversation light, with the two men ribbing each other and both of them spooning more food onto her plate whenever they thought she wasn't looking. Pepper listened to their genial insults, smiling as they laughed, and while she didn't understand all of the code phrases any more, she didn't feel excluded.

 _I need to get out again,_ she thought as she poured more iced tea into her glass. Aside from her lunch trip, she hadn't been off Tony's property since he'd brought her back from her old neighborhood. _I need to talk to normal people._

In fact, it occurred to her later, as Rhodes waved goodbye and headed back to his car--in fact, her head was pretty much healed and her bruises were fading. _I really don't have any more reason to stay here._

Never mind that she had nowhere to actually go; that was a solvable problem. Pepper walked slowly back towards the kitchen, Tony just ahead of her, and it took her a moment to realize that he was limping slightly.

"Bed, Mr. Stark," she said sternly. "You need more rest to heal."

He swung around to face her, the corners of his mouth turning up and his eyes gleaming with mischief. "You know, usually when you suggest that you come with me."

Pepper gave him a quelling look. "You told me I still had my job. Which is, in short, to look after you. You need more sleep." She wasn't about to discuss their former relationship right at that moment, not after the events of the day. She needed time to think.

His humor faded a little. "Tony," he said firmly. "Even before, you called me Tony."

Negotiating with him was something Pepper _did_ remember. "Will you not argue if I do?"

He smirked a little. "Not _this_ time, anyway."

She raised her brows, amused despite herself. "Very well then. Go to bed, Tony. And to sleep."

He snickered. " _That_ was easy." Before she could take offense, he grabbed her hand and kissed the back of it. "Do my best, Potts."

And he was gone, moving fairly swiftly despite the limp. Pepper rolled her eyes, but the spot he'd kissed tingled just slightly as she headed for her office.

It was still more comfortable than the guest bedroom she was occupying. Pepper sat down in her perfect desk chair and let it recline slightly, looking out the window at what little she could see of the eastern view. Sunset had come and gone, and mostly what was visible was her own reflection.

Idly she stood again and went to examine her image more closely. It was difficult to make out any real detail; she was more like a ghost against the darkness beyond the glass, a far-off light shining through her left shoulder.

She looked wrong for the place she was in. Hair down, wearing a t-shirt and a pair of loose cotton trousers she usually kept for weekends--definitely not work attire. Slowly, knowing that no one could see her from outside the property at this angle, Pepper pulled up her shirt.

The edge of the bruise showed above her cleavage. It was more yellow and green now than dark, and hard to make out in the reflection, but she could dip her chin and see it clearly. It spoke of fear and desperation, something she couldn't quite reconcile with the man she remembered.

The Tony she was learning now, though--

Pepper tugged her shirt back down with a grimace, and returned her gaze to her reflection. She hadn't detected any real difference in her own appearance after her accident; maybe she was a few pounds heavier, but not so much that it worried her. No new scars except for a near-invisible line along one temple; perhaps an inch or so more of hair. It was the same familiar body.

Pepper leaned forward and rested her palms against the chilly glass, as though she were doing vertical push-ups. And suddenly her mind presented her with a picture--not a memory at all, but an imagining so vivid that she could almost see it with her eyes. The same reflection, but with Tony Stark pressed up behind her, his arms encircling her and his hands on the point of closing over her breasts. His face behind her ear was intent, sensual, and her own eyes were closed, her lips parted--

Pepper pushed away from the window with a hard shove and stamped back to her chair, deliberately sitting down with her back to the glass. _No._

 _Why not?_ asked a treacherous part of her, and Pepper faced it down as sternly as she might Tony himself when he was refusing to attend a particularly important meeting.

 _Because it's foolish. Because it's wrong. Because, no matter how stupid you were before, you have a chance to fix things._ Fate had erased her error, and she didn't have to repeat it.

Pepper pushed away the memory of Tony's asking eyes. Certainly he was infatuated with her now, but sooner or later the attraction would fade, just as it had with all his other conquests. This was the perfect opportunity to escape with her heart intact, without causing a mess that would destroy their working relationship.

Pepper opened her laptop and began searching for decent apartments.

* * *

She dreamed all night. Every time she would surface for a bleary moment sleep would drag her back down into a vivid, ever-changing mosaic of images, feelings, and events. The Iron Man armor, but unadorned silver. Tony in a ridiculous pair of yellow sunglasses. Wandering through the mansion, knowing it was utterly empty but for a tearing loneliness. Her old apartment, hovering in open air six stories above the street. Her chest on fire, Tony swearing desperately in her ear.

None of the dreams would stay; they faded and melted and merged into other absurdities. She twitched and moaned and tried to wake, but her subconscious was relentless.

Until she dreamed a hand stroking her hair, and a low voice soothing her, telling her she wasn't alone, that everything was all right and she was safe. And at last she could fall into oblivion.

* * *

Tony sat on the edge of Pepper's bed until nearly dawn. Jarvis had alerted him to her agitation, as per orders, and when she hadn't responded to his soft repetition of her name from her doorway he'd ventured inside. She had been tossing in her sheets, whimpering under her breath, and he'd moved to wake her, but at the touch of his hand she had quieted.

So he'd stayed. In fact, he hadn't been able to make himself leave her to whatever nightmares plagued her sleep; even after she'd stopped dreaming, he couldn't walk away. He just leaned against the headboard and watched her breathe, one lock of tangled red hair spilling over his wrist.

_You still love me, Pepper, if I can still chase the bad dreams away._

But when the sun began to light the sky Tony forced himself to move, rising and leaving silently despite stiff muscles and the bruises she'd remarked on earlier.

And hoped like hell that he was right.


	8. Chapter 8

She was up to something. Tony didn't quite know _what_ \--yet--but he could practically smell the guilt coming off of Pepper.

The trouble was, Jarvis had turned stubborn and refused to tell him what she had been doing online. Tony could, if he chose, go through the logs himself by eye and find out, but he wasn't sure that they would give him any hints.

 _After breakfast, maybe. If I can't get anything out of her then._ She was moving around the kitchen, putting together breakfast and chattering about nothing, and smiling with the edge of brightness that he knew hid a nervousness she wasn't willing to acknowledge. Tony let her move, seating himself backwards in a chair and resting his arms on the back, and watching her with the patience of a predator. It would only make her more nervous, but at the moment that suited him.

Finally, when she had eaten two bites of her bagel and was walking over to the trash can to throw the rest of it away, he spoke. "What's up, Pepper?"

It could be completely innocent, he knew that. Yesterday had been full of shocks for her, and she demonstrably hadn't slept well--even if he hadn't seen her restlessness first hand, the shadows under her eyes showed through her makeup. So he kept his voice gentle.

"I'm going out this morning," she said directly, surprising him--he had expected prevarication.

"What time?" Tony asked, mentally rearranging his schedule. "Happy can drive you."

She flushed a little. "That's not necessary."

Tony opened his mouth to argue, then changed his mind. "Yeah, okay, sorry. No reason you can't drive yourself."

The blush deepened slightly, but Pepper looked relieved. "Thank you."

He stood up and pushed the chair in. "Errands to run?"

Pepper shrugged. It was supposed to look casual, but it wasn't, quite. "I'm going apartment hunting."

The sensation was akin to the magnet coming loose in his Mark I implant. It took an effort to keep _the hell you are_ behind his teeth, but Tony managed. Swallowing, he forced his voice to be level. "Pepper, _this_ is your home."

She looked down, then back up again, meeting his gaze calmly. "I don't want to hurt you, Tony. But it's not. Not any more."

Didn't want to hurt him? She'd just _eviscerated_ him. Licking his lips, he tried again. "It's only been a _week_. It could be a month before your memories come back. And then you'll have all the hassle of moving back." He tried to grin, and wasn't entirely sure it was successful. "You _hate_ moving, Pepper."

He watched as she sorted through responses. "The odds aren't in my favor, Tony," she said at last. "I can't wait around for something that might never happen--I have to deal with things as they are now."

He wanted to howl. He wanted to grab her, and shake her, and kiss her until she figured out that she was supposed to _stay_ with him. And he almost did; his fingers positively itched with the need, until he clenched them into fists.

"You're welcome to stay here," he managed, surprised that his voice was still calm. "If you don't like the room, I can change it. Or build you something. Pepper--"

She shook her head. "It's not that, Tony. It's the fact that, like it or not, I'm your employee. It's not appropriate for me to stay here."

Anger was swelling up under the fear, and Tony moved, stepping closer to her. "Bullshit, Potts, and you know it. No one would blink an eye if my personal assistant decided to cut the commute. In fact, nobody _did._ " It wasn't strictly true, but the backlash had been a whole lot weaker than either of them had anticipated.

Her mouth tightened, sign of a rising temper. "That may be, but we are not in a _relationship,_ Tony. I need my own space."

Before Afghanistan, before everything, he might have thrown a spoiled-brat fit, threatened to fire her, even tried to keep her by force out of sheer panic. Now he knew that the tighter he held her, the harder Pepper would try to escape, her nature sparking against his. He couldn't lose her, but there was more than one way to make her change her mind.

He forced himself to step back, and consciously relaxed his hands. "All right."

Pepper blinked twice. "What?"

"All right," Tony repeated, turning to walk a few feet away. "That's logical. Find your own space then, Pepper, and get Jarvis to help you. But remember two things."

He swung back around and held up one finger. "One: you're still my PA, and that's not going to change. Two--" He stalked back towards her, right up into her personal space. "I reserve the right to change your mind about that relationship, Potts. And as you've remarked before, I play dirty."

Her lips parted and her pupils dilated, signals that his libido recognized and gleefully pounced on. He leaned in even closer, feeling her breath warm his own, but turned aside at the last moment so his mouth grazed her cheek. "We're still the same people," he whispered against her skin. "It's inevitable."

And then he forced himself away and out of the room before he did something she wouldn't forgive.

* * *

Her first impulse was to quit. Pepper sat in the back of the taxi she'd called out of sheer irritation, and fumed, considering the various merits of two weeks' notice versus just going up and telling Tony Stark, to his face, that she was _gone._

But her job was familiar. About the only thing left that _was._ And even if she wasn't actually performing it at the moment, she would be soon, and the idea of losing that last bit of what she remembered made her stomach twist with panic.

 _You can do this,_ she told herself as the taxi wended its way towards downtown. _You managed him for years; this is just the same._ After all, he'd been flirting with her the whole time she'd been working for him, and she'd had no trouble holding him off. Maybe she'd wondered sometimes what it would be like to give in, but that was all...really.

Despite the fact that his proximity that morning had swamped her senses and locked up her nervous system. _It's just hormones,_ she told herself. _You have a brain, you don't have to let them run you._

The fact that Tony was a lot more dangerous when he was focused she chose to dismiss. She'd managed him through mergers, stock drops, illness, let's-fly-a-party-halfway-around-the-world-right-now impulses, and messy one-night stands, and Pepper had confidence that she could manage this too.

She had to.

She spent the morning with a real estate agent, looking at higher-end apartments with lots of space. Pepper hadn't yet managed to get down to the sub-basement storage space that Jarvis said held her extra things, so she wasn't exactly sure what she owned any longer, at least in the way of furniture. But she did want something airy and open, with plenty of room, and thanks to her infuriating boss, she had the money to indulge her desires.

By the time she got back to the mansion, Pepper had a folder full of possibilities, a stomach full of lunch, and a more relaxed mind. There was no sign of Tony, so she settled down in her office with Jarvis and applied herself to his lessons in history, Stark Industries, and the current company situation.

"You will soon be as up to date as I can bring you," the AI told her when Pepper paused for a break and a cup of tea. "In fact, you could return to work on Monday, provided that you are careful not to overtax yourself."

Pepper grinned wryly. "Yes, sir, Doctor Jarvis. Since when do you have an M.D.?"

"Modern medical institutions unfortunately continue their prejudice against allowing artificially created intelligences to matriculate," Jarvis replied serenely, making her sputter with laughter. "But I have the accumulated knowledge of all the accredited medical journals currently in print. Though your current situation falls more under common sense than actual diagnosis..."

"Okay, okay." Pepper waved a hand. "I'll probably be so overwhelmed by the end of the day anyway that I'll just want to go home and cry."

"Unlikely." Jarvis' tone was crisp. "You have shown a remarkable ability to cope with adversity, Pepper. Your first day back on the job may be stressful, but it will not conquer you."

Pepper blinked, taken aback by the AI's statement. "I, um...thank you, Jarvis."

"You are quite welcome."

It was dark by the time Pepper finished her remedial work, and Tony still had not shown up. "Where is Mr. Stark, Jarvis?" Pepper asked, standing and stretching.

"He has flown to Boston for a meeting. He will return tomorrow morning."

"Oh." The news was a bit deflating, and that realization immediately irritated Pepper. The fact that it was Saturday didn't make any difference; at Tony's level, meetings often happened at odd hours and in strange places, as people jockeyed for his time and attention. "All right."

Pepper took herself down to the sub-basement to look over what she had in storage. Like the rest of the house, the storage area was climate-controlled, and it held a wide and sometimes astonishing range of objects--hideously expensive artwork, engines for cars and small jets, antique furniture dating from the elder Starks' day, records and backups and things she couldn't even name--though she was sure they were on an inventory list somewhere.

Her stuff had its own section, near the big freight elevator. Curious and apprehensive both, Pepper tugged off the shrouds to find the handmade cradle she'd picked up in a junk store and converted to a bookshelf, and the wrought-iron bedstead she'd bought when she graduated from college. Both of them precious to her, but not quite fitting the decor of the house.

Not to mention, the bed was a twin...

She replaced the shrouds, though there was very little dust for them to protect against, and turned to the boxes stacked against the wall. They were labeled in her own neat, legible print--financial records, photo albums dating back to high school, her brief flirtation with scrapbooking, various other ephemera. Several boxes contained books that she had not moved upstairs for one reason or another.

 _I guess I'll need to go furniture shopping._ Pepper sighed and moved on to the last set of boxes, and then stopped, smacking her own forehead in exaggerated exasperation. " _Diaries._ Virginia, you _idiot."_

She couldn't blame this memory lapse on her head injury. Pepper had begun journal-keeping in college and had kept it up ever since, on a fairly consistent basis. It was more an exercise in organizing her thoughts than an actual record, but she found it soothing even if she didn't write every day.

_And I forgot all about them._ _**Four years** _ _of what I've missed, all neatly written down._

Sighing and laughing both, Pepper went to find the hand truck stored near the elevator, and hauled the three newest boxes upstairs to her office. "Let's see," she murmured, surveying them. "2009?"

But when she opened the boxes, the latest journal was dated July 2008. Pepper frowned down at the cloth-backed book. _I fill these things faster than one per year. Where's the latest?_

She couldn't find it. It wasn't in her office, nor in the master bedroom, nor any other place she could think of. Even when she took into account the fact that the entire house had been her home, it was in no logical spot. And not in any of the illogical ones she tried, either.

Finally Pepper gave up and went back to the July '08 volume, taking it and the two previous out to the living room so she could curl up on the couch in comfort. They were written in her usual terse style, short statements meant to evoke memories interspersed with longer ramblings. The first entry was dated in late July and simply read _They've found him._

Not hard to figure out.

Pepper read on. Brief commentaries and facts about Tony's return and his injuries, a slightly disbelieving account of the arc reactor implant, a few rants about how much she hated it when he didn't give her any warning about outrageous statements to the press. Pepper found the whole thing more than a little disconcerting; it was her voice, her handwriting, but the memories the words were designed to evoke were missing. It felt like reading fiction about her own life.

Uneasy, she finally set the first volume aside and picked up the latest one. This was less fraught, and contained more day-to-day details about managing Tony Stark and, by extension, a large chunk of Stark Industries. Pepper read avidly, trying to ignore the occasional comments about the man himself outside the context of work.

But it was hard to pass over statements like _He brought me breakfast in bed this morning and didn't even burn the eggs_ , or _Note to self, Tony is much more pliable if I let him indulge his romantic side,_ or even _How did he figure out to kiss_ _ **that**_ _spot?_ _Not that I'm_ _ **complaining**_ _._ All of it hinted at a relationship that was much more than just sex, and a Tony who was a good deal more involved than Pepper would ever have given him credit for.

 _Maybe he's changed,_ whispered the insidious voice in the back of her head. _Maybe he really is capable of maintaining an actual relationship._

She didn't want to _think_ about it. She had enough to deal with as it was, and the proof that such a relationship _had_ existed was an additional pressure on barriers that Pepper had carefully erected the moment she realized that she found her boss very attractive.

So she forced her mind back to the mundane details of managing the man and the company, and made notes, and tried not to think about how quiet the house was now that she knew Tony wouldn't be home until morning.

At ten-thirty, Jarvis spoke. "There is a delivery approaching the front door."

Pepper looked up from her diaries, frowning a little. "Who delivers this late?"

Jarvis apparently took the question to be rhetorical, and didn't answer. Pepper rose and headed for the door, envisioning a shipment of parts and a driver who'd gotten lost in the wilds of Malibu, but instead opened it to find a young man in the uniform of the local meal delivery service. He gave her a cheerful grin. "Are you Ms. Potts?"

She regarded him with some skepticism; either Jarvis or Happy had vetted the car on the way through the gates, but that didn't mean there hadn't been a mistake. "Yes."

"Great." The young man pulled a large, flat box out of his insulated bag and handed it to her. "Here you go."

Pepper took it automatically. "I didn't order anything," she protested.

"Nope," he agreed. "The guy who phoned it in said you hadn't. Paid by credit card."

 _Tony._ Who else could it be? Pepper hesitated, but the savory odor drifting up from the box was making her mouth water. "Hold on and I'll get you a tip--"

The delivery man shook his head, already backing away and still smiling. "It's already taken care of. Have a nice evening."

And he was gone, striding back to his little battered Beetle. Pepper rolled her eyes, and took what seemed to be her dinner back inside.

The box, when opened on the kitchen table, proved to hold three separate styrofoam containers. As Pepper lifted them out, Jarvis spoke up again. "Ms. Potts, Tony has recorded a message for you."

Pepper opened the largest container, which proved to hold a generous serving of scampi over angel hair pasta. It was still steaming gently, and the fragrance made her stomach growl. "Couldn't he call directly?"

"The message is timed to coincide with your acceptance of the delivery," Jarvis replied. "Shall I play it?"

The other boxes held a salad and a slice of strawberry cheesecake. "Can I prevent you?"

"That question has a number of answers--"

"Never mind." Pepper smiled. Jarvis was so flexible that sometimes it was hard to remember that he was, in fact, a computer. "Go ahead."

Tony's voice came on through the AI's speakers, slightly stern. "Ms. Potts. Jarvis says you haven't eaten, so enjoy your dinner. Don't make me fly back and tie you to a kitchen chair." He paused. "Though that does sound kind of fun."

Pepper sighed, amused despite herself. Tony's voice got serious. "Skipping meals isn't the way to heal faster, Pepper, so eat." The recording cut off with an odd sound, as if further speech had been edited out.

Brusque as the words were, they warmed her. Pepper fetched a knife and fork, and was half-tempted to raid Tony's wine cellar for a nice pinot grigio. _That's hardly professional, though._

As she ate the excellent food, Pepper reflected ruefully that she had expected Tony to make good on his threat...but not quite in this fashion.

* * *

Pepper's eyes flew open in the dark, and she held absolutely still, trying to hold onto the memory...for memory it was that had invaded her sleep. She'd been running for her life, dodging obstacles, everything blue...and behind her strode Death, impossibly fast.

Obadiah.

Even knowing what she knew, even having seen the house recording of Stane's theft of Tony's arc implant, Pepper couldn't quite reconcile the expansive, sharp-witted man she knew with the monster who'd tried to kill them both. But the resurgent memory brought back the horrified disbelief, the terror of that night at the company headquarters, vivid and undeniable.

Finally Pepper relaxed. The memory was as fragmented as a bad videotape and clearly incomplete, but her hunger to regain what she'd lost was stronger than the gluey fear of the remembrance.

Rolling over, she looked at the nightlit clock and saw that it was almost dawn outside. As the surge of adrenaline faded, Pepper drowsed, slipping just under the edge of sleep but no further.

So when her door sighed open, she heard it. Instantly awake, Pepper held still, knowing that if Jarvis had not sounded the alarm there was only one person it could be.

His footsteps were almost silent on the thick carpet...almost. Pepper knew she should sit up, say something, castigate Tony for violating her privacy, but instead she kept her breathing slow and steady, consumed by curiosity as to what the hell he was _doing_.

As far as she could judge with her eyes closed, Tony walked up to the edge of her bed...and then just stood there. She could hear him breathing, but that was all, and she wondered wildly if he was on to her, if he was waiting with that sardonic grin for her to turn over and look at him.

But then he sighed, a long, sad, weary exhalation. A moment later the lightest of touches ghosted over her hair. "Please don't leave, Pepper," Tony said, his voice hardly more than a whisper. "Please. Don't go. I don't--" He swallowed. "I don't know what I'd do without you. Without you _here."_

His hand brushed her hair once more, and then he walked slowly away.

It wasn't until the door closed again that Pepper could move, but all she did was open eyes that were brimming with tears.


	9. Chapter 9

"Ready?" Tony asked, looking Pepper over with approval laced with apprehension. It had been ten days since her fall, and he really thought it was too early for her to return to work, but both Pepper and Jarvis said otherwise, and Tony wasn't willing to fight both of them.

_Besides, if she's at work, I can keep an eye on her personally._

Pepper gave him an impatient look. "Let's _go._ " She was wearing one of her tidy suits and looked very professional; any residual bruising was hidden by her clothing. To the outward eye, she appeared no different than usual.

 _The only people who know she lost her memory are you and Rhodey,_ Tony reminded himself again. _Any hiccups can be explained by the fact that she fell down and hit her head last week._ That was the official story for Pepper's week-long sick leave--a mild concussion. It was even perfectly legitimate. "All right, let's get this show on the road."

His PA rolled her eyes and preceded him out the door, making a beeline for the limo door being held open by a beaming Happy. The driver touched his forehead to her in a gesture of congratulation, and she dimpled back at him, sliding into the car with practiced grace. Tony had to wonder if the reversal of their usual order was pure enthusiasm on her part, or the prompting of her subconscious; up until they'd become lovers, she had always entered the car second, but after that alteration, the manners his parents had hammered into him resulted in letting the lady go first. The initial switch had caused some small confusion, he recalled, with Pepper bumping into him outside the limo more than once and blushing scarlet. He'd often used the opportunity to steal a kiss...

She already had her BlackBerry out and on as Tony settled into his seat, and he listened with a certain amusement to her soft cursing. She'd spent most of Sunday triaging the e-mails that her subordinates hadn't handled, but the phone was demonstrably still fighting her.

Tony cleared his throat as they passed through the gate. Pepper spoke without looking up. "You have a conference call with the Belgian Ministry of Defence at ten and a meeting with the reactor division at two-thirty. Aside from that your day is your own."

He felt his mouth curving up. _Trying to prove something, are we?_ "That's not what I meant," he replied, which at least got her to raise her eyes from her phone.

"Yes, Mr. Stark?" Tony caught the flash of uncertainty in her eyes, and reminded himself that for all her eagerness Pepper was probably more scared of returning to her job than he was for her.

"I know you looked over the building map, but just stick with me when we go in and I'll take you straight up to my office and then yours. That way no one will notice a thing."

She bit her lip. "Okay." A brief hesitation. "Thank you."

He nodded once and sat back, deciding to be satisfied for the moment. Pepper returned to her phone, though not to the cursing; Tony wasn't sure if she was finally getting the hang of the new model, or if she had just run out of invective.

When they reached the office he delivered on his promise, sweeping in like it was just another ordinary morning and leading her upstairs to what Rhodey rudely referred to as the Penthouse suite, emphasis on the title. Tony kept up a light patter of rambling complaint, nothing Pepper had to really concentrate on, so as to give her a chance to surreptitiously look around. Knowing her powers of observation, one good look was all she'd need anyway.

Within ten minutes she was safely at her desk--her office adjoined his--and Tony felt he could leave her there for the moment. "Let me know if you need anything," he murmured in her ear as she sat down, not missing the light flush that ran up her throat at the proximity of his mouth to her skin. "That includes needing to know where you keep the rubber bands and paperclips."

"Left side, second drawer down," she murmured back wryly. Tony blinked, and bent down to pull open the drawer in question.

"I'll be damned," he said softly at the sight of the boxes. "Did you remember that?"

Pepper shook her head, lips turning up. "That's just where I always keep them."

Tony closed the drawer and headed for his office. "Excessive organization is the sign of an unbalanced mind, Potts," he said in a solemn tone, not looking back.

The amused sniff followed him out.

* * *

Over the next two weeks, he learned to recognize when a memory was returning. Pepper would freeze, her eyes widening to stare at nothing as she strove to capture the recollection, and Tony always held his breath for fear of making a sound that would chase the elusive thing away. She wouldn't always tell him what she remembered, but sometimes she would smile afterwards, or frown; twice she had to wipe away a tear or two.

He wanted to ask what she remembered. He wanted her to share with him, the triumph of remembering, wanted to ease the sorrow or anger that sometimes came with the memories. And sometimes he did ask, but not always. This Pepper was harder to deal with, in a way; he wanted something she wasn't ready to give, and he was so afraid of losing her that he feared to push.

She was healing visibly, though. Her first day back at work had worn her out so badly that she'd fallen asleep on the drive home, and Tony had carried her in to bed, her sensibilities be damned. Not that she'd woken, even when he slipped off her shoes and tucked her in. It was difficult to leave the nylons, but removing those was out of the question both for her privacy and his self-restraint; as it was he hung over her a bit too long, breathing in the scent rising from her warm sleeping skin, and had to go deal with the resultant hydraulic pressure afterwards.

But every day after that she grew more confident, and that he loved to see. And every day he crossed his fingers and hoped, because she was still at the mansion despite her plans to move out. Her apartment was chosen, but not yet ready, and Tony wondered how long he could get away with bribing the flooring subcontractor to stall before Pepper found out.

Tony quizzed Jarvis about retrograde amnesia, demanding more detail. Jarvis pointed out dryly that each case was different, but informed him that because humans tended to remember general impressions and major events, most of Pepper's missing four years was likely to remain blurry anyway. Tony had to admit the point; it wasn't like he could run every moment of a given week past his mind's eye either. "Of course, that's why I have you," he told the AI, down in the garage as he contemplated suit schematics.

"And I live to serve," Jarvis snarked back. "One other item of note is that the loss of memory sometimes extends to a particular traumatic event in the sufferer's past. For instance, an amnesia victim who was in a car accident six months prior to memory loss may find that their amnesia dates from just prior to the accident."

Tony frowned and absently adjusted a virtual flap in the image before him. "You mean the subconscious is actually causing the amnesia?"

"Not exactly." Jarvis' tone went pedantic. "It is more that the subconscious takes advantage of the amnesia to conceal trauma from the conscious mind."

"Weird." Tony considered the notion briefly and discarded it. Nothing traumatic had happened to Pepper in mid-2005; she'd been her usual efficient self that summer, not even taking the vacation that Human Resources tried to force upon her. "Is she still having nightmares?"

He'd rescinded the close monitoring order as Pepper's energy returned, but he still had Jarvis keeping a surreptitious eye on her while she slept.

"No, sir," the AI answered. "Her sleep is often restless, but she does not display the levels of agitation that you specified."

Tony sighed, and contemplated slipping sedatives into her supper, but figured that would get him into more trouble than it was worth. _I used to have ways to get her to sleep,_ he thought with a mixture of regret and lasciviousness. Of course, Pepper had used the same methods on him just as often.

Not that he'd _argued._

Tony rubbed the back of his neck and wondered why life was so fucked up.

Pepper's voice came over the intercom, pulling him out of his musings. "Pizza's here, and if you don't get up here soon I'm starting without you."

Tony grinned and stood up, stretching. One nice thing about Pepper's returning to work was that her attitude towards him had normalized. It was still more formal than he liked, but at least she wasn't wary about baiting him any longer.

_And it's Friday. I wonder if I can talk her into a weekend at the Dubai house--_

Pepper was already sitting at the table when he got to the kitchen. "Beer?" he asked as he headed for the fridge, but Pepper shook her head and Tony hid his sigh. She claimed that drinking alcohol with him was unprofessional, and maybe it was, but to him it was always one more sign that things were not as they should be.

He got himself a longneck, though, and joined her, and they shared out the pie and began eating in easy silence. Pepper had changed out of her work clothes and wore a scoopneck top and loose yoga pants, and Tony wanted to slide around to her side of the table and just snuggle up to her. The hug she'd given him had eased a little of his loneliness, but he still ached for the touch of her skin, and that was outside of his baser urges.

Pepper was looking pensive, and Tony finally spoke. "Something on your mind?"

She shrugged, and looked down at the half-eaten slice on her plate. "Nothing."

"Uh-huh." Tony wiped his fingers on a napkin. "Try again, Potts."

He half-expected her to become irritated, but instead her mouth quirked sadly. "I miss Obadiah," she said reluctantly.

The memory might be lost to her, but it wasn't to him. Tony instantly recalled the night she'd found him sodden drunk for the first time in months, and forced him to talk, to finally admit that he mourned the loss of the man who had been mentor and foster-father and friend to him for so long. He'd sobbed into her shoulder, felt her arms tight around him, heard the hitch in her breathing as she wept as well--for the man Stane had once been. Iron Monger had meant both their deaths, but Obadiah...

"I do too," he said at last, and it was true. Tony felt guilty; it had never occurred to him that Pepper would feel the loss afresh.

She pushed her plate away. "I don't understand it," she said, her voice soft. "The man I remember would never have done anything like that. And it's _weird_ not having him around."

Tony knew that Obadiah had taken over a lot of the duties he himself had shirked in earlier years, and he realized now that Pepper had probably depended on the man to handle things that she couldn't get Tony to take on. To find herself back in a job grown unfamiliar, without that aid to depend on...even if Tony had become more responsible, it had to be hard.

He hesitated, but the sight of her drooping shoulders was just too much to take. Rising, Tony rounded the table and crouched next to her chair to surround Pepper in a hug.

For an instant she was stiff, and he braced himself for a shove, but then she leaned into him, her arms slipping shyly around his waist. Tony held her close, luxuriating guiltily in the chance to touch her, and rubbed her back soothingly, telling himself that he was only returning the comfort she'd given him earlier.

No more than a friend would. Really.

"He was a good man, before," Tony said quietly, speaking the truth that it had taken him months to admit.

Pepper nodded against his shoulder, and gasped once in a near-silent sob. Tony hugged her harder and pressed his cheek against her hair, wishing for words to heal her since he couldn't do as he wanted, which was to pull her into his lap and kiss her tears away.

Far too soon, though, Pepper sighed and pulled back, and he forced his arms to let her go. She wiped surreptitiously at her eyes. "Sorry."

Tony snorted, and stood, reaching out to tap her nose lightly with one forefinger. "Shut up, Potts," he said easily, managing not to laugh at her cross-eyed expression. "Eat your dinner."

Her smile was slow but definite, and they finished the meal in peace.

* * *

"What do you mean the floors aren't ready yet? You told me last week that they would be done by now." Pepper tapped her fingers angrily on her desk, staring out her window as she listened to the excuses the apartment manager was spouting on the other end of the line. She was halfway tempted to give the place up and look for another one, but it was exactly what she wanted and had a great view besides--much better than her old place. Fed up, she lowered her voice to the steel-edged register that had board members paying attention and middle managers hopping to. "If the floors are not done in _three days,_ I am suing for breach of promise. No, I am not interested in the completed unit, I want _that_ one. Yes...thank you. I will hold you to that."

Pepper set the phone in its cradle with the gentleness of complete control, and stood up to pace a bit, quite aware of why something relatively trivial was so annoying. _I'm getting too comfortable at the mansion._

Resuming her job had been a blessing in many ways, and now, a month later, she was feeling in control and on top of things. She still ran into gaps in her knowledge fairly often, but Tony had linked her BlackBerry directly to Jarvis, and if the information wasn't already at her fingertips, the AI could find it for her within seconds. _And every day I remember a bit more._

The trouble was that they were slipping into an easy rapport outside of work. Living in the same house meant it was silly to try to eat meals separately, and anyway Pepper had already been in the habit of trying to make Tony stick to some kind of food schedule. But despite her refusal of his invitation to Dubai for a weekend, and another Iron Man mission, they had still somehow ended up watching old movies some nights and walking on the beach at least once.

Well, to be fair, Pepper had gone for a walk and Tony had invited himself along, but either way her attempts to keep a respectable distance between them wasn't working. Tony ignored the barriers she tried to set up, with the sublime indifference to rules that was one of his hallmarks, and Pepper sometimes found it very hard to fight back when the alternative was a rather lonely evening in her room--the one place in the house that Tony would not, in theory, enter without permission.

It was all part of his determination to change her mind, that was clear. But he'd surprised her there too. _Who would have guessed that Tony Stark the playboy is a closet romantic?_

The brief notations in her diaries hadn't prepared her for the roses that appeared on her desk at work every Tuesday. When Pepper had confronted him about them, Tony had told her with only the barest trace of smugness that they were something he'd been doing for months, and if he stopped now people would wonder why.

There were also the tulips he'd filled her home office with last Sunday--literally filled. She'd spent an hour finding places around the house to put the vases, cursing him under her breath and blushing.

There was the small gold box she found under her pillow every night, the one that held two of her favorite chocolate truffles. When she'd taxed him about coming into her room, he'd admitted that he'd programmed Butterfingers to make the deliveries. And grinned and sauntered off, leaving her sputtering.

There was his habit of leaning over her while she sat at her desk, invading her personal space as he pretended to read over her shoulder--bringing every nerve alert and sending her heartbeat skyrocketing.

There were the times she looked up, at work or at home, to find his gaze on her, hot with a promise that he never fulfilled.

And there was the bag of Cheetos--her weakness--and a curt note telling her to "Take a load off, Potts" on her desk at work when her period had begun.

Pepper could deal with flirting. She wasn't sure how long she could deal with Tony's dedicated, oddly gentlemanly attempts at seduction.

She sighed and resumed her seat. Tony was currently in a meeting with several people from the Environmental Protection Agency, and would be for at least an hour longer. Her own work was up to date, aside from the eternal cascade of e-mails, but she simply wasn't in the mood to deal with them at the moment.

_Tony..._

He was driving her quietly _nuts_. Pepper had always felt a certain level of physical attraction towards her boss; it was just about inevitable, and only somewhat toned down by also witnessing his less than sterling qualities in action. She'd built up a certain immunity to his pheromones and charm over time, but that didn't mean she didn't _notice._

All his efforts now were...disconcerting, to say the least. To know, at least objectively, that she had enjoyed his more intimate company for so many months already, made her wonder almost incessantly what it had been like. After all, she'd seen the results of just one evening's worth of his formidable concentration many times before...the idea of having it on a regular basis was a bit dizzying.

And he'd changed. Pepper had to admit that. It had taken her a while to really believe in it, but the evidence was there to be found when she started looking. Tony was still making headlines on a regular basis, but it was because of Iron Man, not because he was tomcatting; and Jarvis had obligingly informed Pepper of when she'd moved in and the list of changes Tony had offered to make.

In fact, according to the AI, she'd had to be very firm to keep Tony from redesigning half the house just to make her feel welcome.

 _I just don't know._ Tony had never made a secret of what he wanted--memory or not, she was his desire. But Pepper just wasn't sure that she was ready or even willing to restart their relationship.

 _I must have loved him. I wouldn't have done this otherwise._ She blinked in bewilderment and resumed her seat, automatically smoothing her skirt. _But I don't...I don't know what I feel now._

There had just been too much change lately. And whatever she did feel for Tony was _complicated._ _I'm not going to rush into anything._

Pepper sighed, and leaned her elbows on her desk and her forehead on her hands. His low half-whisper echoed in her memory, begging her not to leave, and when did Tony Stark beg anyone for anything? It _hurt_ to think of him so desperate.

_But I need space to think._

It was why she was insisting so hard on the apartment, still. To her fragmented memory, the mansion was still Tony's territory. Pepper needed room that was completely her own, that kept him at a decent distance.

_I have to do what's right for me._

Lifting her head, Pepper firmed her chin and woke her computer. The e-mails wouldn't disappear on their own.


	10. Chapter 10

It was just the next day that the call came in from Fury.

Pepper blinked at the indicator that sprang up in the lower left-hand corner of her desktop. She recognized the circled A as the Avengers' symbol, but-- _What's it doing on my computer?_

Apparently it was some kind of instant-messaging program; it began scrolling text. Pepper tapped the window to expand it, and found what appeared to be an ongoing transcript of a conversation between her boss and Nick Fury. Bemused, she watched the conversation unfold as Fury ordered Tony to report for some kind of mission, and Tony--using words that she didn't usually hear from him--insulted Fury. But within moments an agreement had been reached.

Seconds later Tony blasted out through his office door, ruffled and stormy, and covered the distance between them with a few long strides. "Did you get that?" he asked in a low voice, obviously trying to avoid catching the attention of anyone in the outer office through her open door.

Pepper looked up at him. His expression was grim, eyes already focused on something beyond the here and now. Pepper swallowed apprehension and gave him a professional nod. "Yes."

He nodded back, once and sharp. "Fury doesn't like that thing, but you insisted." He waved in the direction of her terminal. "I..."

"You need to get going," Pepper told him softly.

Tony looked down at her, his expression shifting to something rueful and somehow pained. "I know." His hand lifted, and his knuckles skimmed her cheek in a caress that was far more tender than sensual. "Usually you give me a kiss goodbye."

If he was trying to tease, he didn't really succeed. Something in the back of Tony's eyes was...not scared, exactly, but sad. Pepper had seen the results of various Iron Man missions in Jarvis' records, and she knew that each one carried a heavy load of risk, super-armor and repulsor technology notwithstanding.

And she wasn't about to deny that she was frightened for him already. "Tony--"

He breathed out. "Sorry, I shouldn't have said that." He started to turn away, but as his hand dropped away Pepper caught it, and pulled.

Surprised, awkward, he bent down, and she pressed a kiss not to his lips but to his own cheek, just above the line of his beard. "Be safe," she murmured.

His smile was twisted, but definite. And then he was gone, moving with a speed that cleared people out of his way without a word being spoken. Pepper watched the elevator doors close, and then let go the breath she'd been holding.

The little window was still open on her desktop. It held one more block of text--the mission specs, Pepper realized as she read it. They didn't make a lot of sense to her, being written in what amounted to a code, but the site of action was listed as Brazil.

Carefully, Pepper saved and closed it, and made herself go on with the work of the day, which now included various cancellings and reschedulings. _This is what it's like,_ she told herself. _This is Tony's life now._

And for the rest of the day that wonder kept running underneath her concentration. The Tony she remembered would have laughed himself sick over the idea of being part of a superhero team, and then poured himself another drink.

Pepper had to admit, somewhere in the depths of her private mind, that she respected the new Tony a lot more.

* * *

It took two days for him to come back. Pepper spent them working as hard as she could, filling every second she could find with tasks, and wondering, rather sourly, why her vanished older self hadn't insisted on some kind of update system. Jarvis, when queried, only said that no one was answering at the Avengers' headquarters.

The nights were as quiet as the one where he'd been gone to Georgia, and Pepper found herself unable to sleep much; instead, she took a pot of herbal tea and a cozy out onto the terrace and wrapped up in a blanket, listening to the waves and just...waiting.

It gave her a lot of time to think. About herself, about her missing past, about the choices she'd made. And about the man whose life shaped hers.

It was _her_ choice; Pepper recognized that. It had always been her choice, from the moment she'd been offered the position of Tony Stark's personal assistant. She could have kept things strictly professional; she could have resigned.

Instead, she'd stayed. Partly for the challenge, partly for--and there was no shame in admitting it--the money. If there was one trait Pepper held onto, it was prudence.

It was a good job, too, one worth doing. Some might say that it was a waste of her life, but Pepper didn't see it that way. Tony _did_ achieve great things--had even before he'd changed--and Pepper considered herself a part of those achievements. She helped make them possible.

And partly, eventually, she'd stayed because she _liked_ her boss. Tony was, or had been, an irresponsible, alcoholic, ego-driven playboy, but he'd also been not only a genius with some world-changing ideas but a genuinely sweet person under all the hype and masks. She hadn't thought much of his personal choices, but Pepper had truly enjoyed his company when he wasn't trying to drive her up a wall. He could be smart, he could be witty, he could be quite a bit of fun when he put his mind to it. He drove her to the limits of her patience and beyond, but sent her home the instant he realized she had the flu; he called her at ridiculous hours, but had the habit of appearing out of nowhere with a cup of tea and making her take a break. He ruined her infrequent dates if he found out about them, but he bought her lavish presents and made her accept them on the spurious grounds that they were tax breaks.

He made her laugh.

And as she watched the stars pass overhead, Pepper came to the conclusion that perhaps her vanished self hadn't been so stupid.

It wasn't just the fragments she remembered--a few quiet domestic moments here and there, a kiss or two, and one truly incendiary flashback that Pepper was just as glad she had recalled while Tony had been out, because the sound of him in ecstasy had made her cheeks burn for an hour--no, it was also the feeling that she could trust him.

A sensation that had started foreign, but was becoming more familiar every day.

_If he really has changed--and it looks like he has--then...then..._

The notion scared Pepper almost as much as it intrigued her. Because she had always known that it would be easy to become infatuated with her boss--dumb, but easy. Now that he was worthy of respect as well as caring...

...Well, the fall would be long and hard.

_The question is, will he be ready to catch you?_

All the evidence did point to "yes".

* * *

He came as a comet the second dawn, arcing down from the lightening sky, and Pepper threw off the blanket and hurried down to the garage as the red-and-gold streak vanished from her line of sight. This time she stood waiting as the robots stripped away the armor, wincing as she saw the scores and dents, the smoky streaks.

_This is much worse than last time._

Tony was in little better shape than his suit, staggering a bit as he stepped out of the boots, his eyes ringed and his hair stiff with sweat. Without having to think Pepper steadied him, ignoring the reek of metal and unwashed male, slipping an arm around his waist and feeling one of his landing heavily on her shoulders. "Hey," he mumbled.

"How badly are you hurt?" Pepper asked practically, guiding him off the platform and not missing the hitch in his breathing. "Jarvis?"

"Bruises and contusions only," came the reassuring electronic answer. "But he is exhausted and dehydrated. Fluids are a priority."

"Tattletale," Tony grunted, heading for the couch, but Pepper steered him towards the elevator instead.

"Bed," she said firmly. "You need to actually rest."

Tony shook his head, but she brooked no protest, and he seemed to be too tired to fight her. "You stay then," he muttered as the elevator carried them upward. "It's _our_ bed."

If it would make him rest, Pepper didn't want to argue. "Fine. Just as long as you lie down."

She made him sit on the edge of the still-made bed. "I'll be right back." Pepper gave him a stern look as she stepped back. "Don't go anywhere."

Tony raised an acknowledging hand, his eyes barely open, and she half-ran to the kitchen, her heart aching. He looked so drained, so absolutely flattened, that it frightened her almost more than an injury might. _Something else is wrong._

There were three large bottles of sports drink on the bottom shelf of the refrigerator, kept for just such a contingency. Pepper grabbed two of them along with a large plastic cup, and took them back with her.

When she reached the room, Tony was just struggling into a pair of loose pajama bottoms. The neoprene lay discarded on the carpet, and Pepper drew in a breath at the sight of the bruises blooming across Tony's back and arms. "Physics won again?" she said, managing to keep her tone light.

He turned, staggered, and caught himself on the edge of the dresser. "Physics cheated." His voice was hoarse.

Pepper set the bottles down on the floor next to the bed, and by the time she'd straightened Tony was making his way back to the bed, wobbly but upright. He sank down with a pained sigh, and Pepper opened one bottle and filled the cup. "Here."

She half-expected a protest, but he drank off the neon-colored liquid in one draught and handed the cup back, nodding at the bottle she held. Pepper filled the cup again, and this time he drank more slowly, hunching over as if every muscle and bone hurt.

When the drink was gone, Pepper took the cup. "Lie _down._ "

She didn't remember having the skill to pull the covers out from under someone lying on top of them, but apparently she'd learned it at some point, because her hands knew how. The linens smelled clean and crisp, and Tony merely sighed again as she dragged them up over him, his eyes already closed. But his hand groped for hers and wrapped tightly around her fingers. "Stay," he repeated.

Pepper pulled her hand free, which made him pry his eyes open again, but it was only so she could settle herself next to him, her back against the headboard. It felt right to reach out and take his hand again, and Tony rolled over with a groan so that he could press his face against her thigh. Within seconds, he was asleep.

 _I don't know what I'm doing,_ Pepper thought as the sun rose and the windows darkened to keep out the light. _But I think it's the right thing._

* * *

Tony slept without moving for almost four hours. Pepper dozed in the dimness, drifting into sleep and back out again, listening to his occasional snuffle against her pajama leg. She had cleared his schedule for three days, so there was plenty of time for him to rest, and Pepper was too tired to think too much about her own actions.

But when he whined and flopped over onto his back, she woke completely. "How are you feeling?"

Tony blinked up at her, gaze still fairly unfocused. "Like hell," he echoed.

Pepper found the cup and refilled it; the sports drink had gone warm, but Tony braced himself stiffly on one elbow and drank it down with nothing more than a grimace. "I'll get you some painkillers," she told him.

"I want a shower," he said, and sat up slowly. The bruises were darkening, but Pepper kept her exclamation of dismay to herself.

This time Tony managed to get upright without help, and limped to the bathroom. Pepper stripped the bed and remade it with fresh sheets, and took the unopened bottle back to the kitchen to switch it out for a chilled one. "Jarvis?" she asked. "What is Tony's usual pattern for this kind of thing?"

The AI's voice was grave. "More sleep once he is clean. The fluids and analgesics are most appropriate. He should also eat, but at this level of exhaustion he finds food nauseating."

Pepper grimaced. "All right. It'll have to wait until he wakes up again, then."

"You too require nourishment," Jarvis pointed out gently. "Tony will be some time in the shower yet."

She had to smile. "Yes, mother. You'll let me know if..."

"I am monitoring him closely," the AI assured her.

Pepper made herself a sandwich, chasing down the hasty bites with a glass of milk. Retreating to her room, she changed out of her pajamas and into a t-shirt and slacks, pulling her hair back into a quick ponytail. _There's the coverall to deal with..._

She made it back to the master bedroom just as Tony emerged from the bathroom. He had found a clean pair of drawstring bottoms, but hadn't bothered with a top, and he looked a little more awake, if still completely drained. Disappointment flickered across his face as he saw her changed attire. "I'll be downstairs."

"What? Tony--" Pepper caught his arm as he turned towards the door. "No. You need to stay up here."

"Not without you." His jaw set in the stubborn line she knew too well, though his gaze slid away from her. "I won't sleep in here without you."

Pepper huffed, considered a number of responses, and then gave them all up when he swayed minutely. "Take your pills and lie down."

More sports drink, and three analgesics, and then she was easing him back down to the mattress. Pepper slid onto it beside him, in the same position as before, but this time Tony settled his head on her lap, one hand hooking over her knee as if to keep her there.

She sighed. _What the hell is wrong with him?_ The thought was exasperated. _Why can't he see reason?_

But she knew why, she just didn't want to admit it, didn't want the lump in her throat that the reason brought. The fact that he wouldn't consider using the damned bed unless she was in it too...

It was just one more piece of evidence that she didn't know quite how to deal with.

Pepper let her hand fall to stroke his damp hair, because he seemed to need it. And though she didn't want to admit that either, she did too.

Tony was silent for so long that Pepper assumed he was asleep again, but then he startled her by speaking.

"It was a whole village."

Pepper blinked, and made a faint encouraging noise. After a moment he went on. "Some local warlord found a witch doctor who could hypnotize people. Fury said he had to be a mutant of some kind. The whole place was turning out ricin at an obscene rate."

His shoulders heaved in another sigh. "We took out the witch doctor. The problem was, everybody he'd Svengali'd just...dropped. Dead. The place got so quiet..."

Her eyes were burning at the desolation in his voice, and Pepper wondered if it was his hands that had ended the witch doctor's life. "He had everybody, down to the four-year-olds. Anyone with enough manual dexterity. Everybody was trying to resuscitate someone, and it didn't work. Nothing left but the warlord and a couple of goons, and three babies."

Tony rubbed his cheek against her leg, his hand tightening on her knee. "We had to do a house-to-house--almost missed them, except they were crying..."

And she _was_ crying, for the people they'd failed to rescue and for Tony himself, so devastated by something he couldn't have helped. But words were futile, so Pepper just kept stroking his hair, over and over, offering the only comfort she could.

* * *

_She's so beautiful._

That was all Tony could think. Pepper lay sleeping next to him, sprawled on her belly with her hand still in his, most of her hair hanging down around her face although a few strands were still bunched back in a scrunchie. She was frowning just slightly, the look she got when concentrating, and he wondered what she was dreaming about.

He'd slept forever, it seemed, drifting off in a haze of pain and exhaustion, and when he'd first opened his eyes he hadn't been sure if waking was a dream, or the past month was. Eventually, though, he'd figured out it was neither, and he hadn't mustered the energy to move.

He'd rather watch Pepper, anyway.

It had been a bad mission. Even Fury had admitted that. And while Tony himself hadn't taken too much damage, the temperature control on his suit had shorted out after a lucky strike, leaving him fighting through a gush of sweat as the local temperature made itself felt. Fighting mind-controlled slaves, they'd found out too late; some of those people were soldiers of fortune, but most of them had just been zombified by the local mad doctor or whoever. And still the team had had to kill, because a zombie with a machine gun or a grenade launcher is still very dangerous, and they'd all been sick to the point of tears by the end of it...

He'd found one of the kids. Some toddler, face red with screaming, back in the dark corner of a house that held no one else but corpses, and it had taken him a good thirty seconds to remember to lift his face shield so the kid could actually see a human face. Not that it had helped much, but at least the kid hadn't fought when Tony had picked it up. In fact, it--girl or boy, he didn't know--had clung to him, to the suit, still wailing, when Tony had passed it on to the aid workers Fury had found somewhere.

Somehow, that had been the worst part.

He hadn't been entirely sure that he'd make it home, that the suit would get him that far. Fortunately the flight had cooled him down somewhat. And then Pepper had been there, right where she was supposed to be, dammit, as though nothing had changed at all, and...

The rest of the morning was kind of hazy in his memory. Tony thought ruefully that he was, at least at the moment, content to leave it that way. Content to rest in the now, to pretend that everything was all right, that he lived in a world where monsters didn't enslave innocents to make bioweapons.

A world where Pepper was by his side and had never left it.

But it was a fragile illusion, because if he did live in that world, the natural thing would be to lean forward and kiss her awake, so she would smile at him.

He was so damn _tempted._

Pepper's eyes opened, clear and calm, and Tony blinked back at her, wondering what was going to happen next. Would she blush? Get up and leave? Pull her hand away? What--

She shifted, and her other hand came up and slid gently down over his brows, making his eyes close. "Go back to sleep, Tony," she told him softly.

So he did.


	11. Chapter 11

He'd blown off the afternoon and gone home early. _It's Friday, isn't it?_ Tony had spent the last two days in New York at the Avengers' headquarters, and he was sick and tired of work. And he wanted to realign the environmental system in the suit. He definitely didn't want a repeat of the last fight's mistakes.

Between calibrations Tony watched the picture on his big video screen. Pepper was seated on the sofa, typing busily away at her laptop, still bandbox-neat from head to toe; she wouldn't so much as kick off her shoes until she was officially off the clock. It was her way of maintaining a division between work and rest, not that the line didn't get blurred on a regular basis, but Tony was too glad that he had talked her into coming home with him to worry too much about it--though of course the urge to go up and at least release that prim ponytail was always there.

He had a system, even--sneak up behind her, bend down, and start exploring the velvet skin of her nape with his lips. By the time he worked his way around to the pulse under her ear, he could tug away the elastic and turn her half-hearted protests into the happy little moans that he loved to hear.

Of course, every so often she didn't argue at all, and Tony loved those times too, because getting thoroughly pounced by his not-so-proper PA was always a fantasy fulfilled...

He sighed, and went back to tinkering with circuitry.

The next time he glanced up, the screen was empty, and the familiar tap of Pepper's heels was echoing in the stairwell. She punched in her code and pressed her palm to the scanner, and the door opened; Tony grinned at her. "Come to give me a good-night kiss, Potts?" The banter at least was familiar.

She sniffed with dry amusement. "Your donation to the Brazilian aid group has gone through." She handed him a thick folder. "Plans from the teletonics division. There will be a quiz."

He laughed, glanced at the top page, and set the folder down. "How about dinner out? We could take the jet up to San Francisco and hit Tsunami--I haven't had decent sushi in weeks."

Pepper tapped the folder. "Did you not hear the quiz part?"

"I can cram later." Tony propped his elbow on the workbench and his cheek on his fist, and gave her his most winning smile. "Come on, Pepper. You've been working too hard. _I've_ been working too hard. Let's take the evening off."

She hesitated, and he sighed exaggeratedly. "I'll even take the plans along. You can test me over dessert."

"I can't, Tony, I'm sorry." Pepper shrugged, though she did look regretful. "I'm going out with some of the front office girls tonight."

Tony smothered his disappointment, glad that she was reconnecting with her friends from work. "How about tomorrow then? Hell, we could go to New Orleans if you like--"

Pepper shook her head. "You have an appointment to look at that Crocker cycle, remember?"

"I could cancel," he offered hopefully.

"Not after all the trouble I went through to set up the meeting," Pepper shot back, lips twitching with amusement. "Besides, if you buy it you'll want to spend the rest of the day taking it apart."

She knew him too well. Tony shrugged. "Guilty...but I could take you for a spin on it afterwards."

"Only if you find the other helmet." Pepper blinked, looking surprised, and by now Tony knew why--another crumb of memory had popped to the surface, giving her knowledge she didn't know she possessed. In this case, he guessed, the fact that his second motorcycle helmet had gone missing in the chaos of his workshop. He smiled, encouraged.

"I could just _buy_ another one. Something in green, maybe?"

"See if you want the motorcycle first." Pepper hesitated, then shook her head and started to walk away. Tony straightened.

"Something on your mind?"

Pepper stopped and turned halfway around, her expression gone thoughtful and shy. "Tony...I..."

He cocked his head, and made his voice coaxing. "What is it?"

"I was just wondering...when we..." She blew out a breath. "Never mind, I shouldn't be asking--"

"Anything you want to know, Pepper, I'll tell you," Tony interrupted softly. She still hadn't turned to look at him straight on, and as he watched, the cheek he could see flushed.

"I...how...how did we...end up together?" Her eyes squeezed shut, and Tony drew in a breath, memory assailing him--

_Such an ordinary evening, just another Thursday, he'd peeled off his tie as soon as he got home and Pepper had undone her ponytail with a sigh of relief. They were sitting on the long couch in the living room, Pepper making him sign memo after memo, clearing out the small tasks of the week, and he looked up to see her gaze on him, calm and bright._

" _I really am proud of you, you know."_

_Her words ran through him like a shock, and with that he knew that at last he'd done it, earned her pride and approbation, and he reached out with shaking hands and pulled her to him. Her lips were soft and her body willing, and the incredible, incredulous joy spreading from behind his arc implant was the best thing he'd felt ever, ever. And she was smiling against his mouth, hands sliding into his hair, and he was_ _never_ _going to let her go--_

It hurt, with a sharp unexpected pain, and Tony felt the muscle in his cheek twitch. He hesitated.

"You...you said you were proud of me. And then I kissed you." He winced at the bald words--he could be glib without effort, but he didn't know how to distill that moment, how to express the sheer miracle of it.

Pepper's head bent. "I can't remember," she said lowly, sounding tired and baffled. "It's like a huge numb spot in my brain, I know it's there, but I can't touch it..."

Tony paced over to stand behind her, and let his hands rest lightly on her shoulders. "It'll come back to you, Pepper. It _will._ " Her scent, delicate vanilla, filled his senses, and he wanted to tighten his grip, turn her around, lay his mouth on hers again so that memory or not she knew his kiss once more. He was trembling with the desire to do that, to go further--

She sighed. "Maybe."

Her hand reached up and touched his fingers where they rested on her collarbone, and then she stepped away, heading for the stairs. Frozen, Tony watched her go.

At the door, Pepper glanced back, still pink. "Thank you for telling me," she said, her mouth quirking sadly.

All he could do was nod.

He stood there for a long time, long after the tap of her heels had faded into silence. Then he flung himself down on the couch with a groan of frustration.

Closing his eyes, Tony replayed her visit, but this time he _did_ turn her, catching her lips in a hot kiss that proved his possession and acknowledged hers all at once. In his mind Pepper yielded, let him brush her clothing away and bear her down to the cushions, let him prove with his body that he loved and needed and adored her, gave into his caresses with gasps and moans, tightened her hands at his hips and loved him _back._

In his mind, in his dream, she remembered, remembered how to love him. In the real world, his body found a harsh release, and he wept for what he'd lost.

* * *

Pepper inhaled the scent of varnish and fresh paint, and smiled happily. "Yes, this will do."

The round little man next to her sighed in relief. "I have the papers ready for you to sign."

She let him lead her over to the marble-topped breakfast bar that separated the kitchen from the dining room of her new apartment, and signed all the places he indicated. With a last smile, he handed her the keys and took himself out.

Pepper walked out into the middle of the empty living room and put her hands on her hips, turning slowly to look at the light-filled space. Now that the floors were finally finished, the place was ready, and for several minutes she arranged the rooms in her head, placing furniture that was now on order and hanging art that was stored in Tony's basement. The walls were just on the white side of green and the floors were a pale honey, and it was ten times nicer than her old place, with a decent view of the ocean even--

But slowly the pleasure ebbed. Pepper moved from living room to bedroom, imagining her carefully saved wrought-iron bedstead in the center, but all of a sudden it seemed too small and narrow. Firming her lips, she mentally placed the cradle shelf in the corner, and that worked better. Plants at the windows, nice thick rugs on the floor, vivid towels in the immaculate bathroom...she strolled back into the kitchen and thought about filling the drawers and shelves with spoons and spatulas, and the space with the smell of baking. Pepper ran one hand over the smooth cold counter, enjoying the texture under her palm.

It was a great apartment. It would be all hers, every inch of it.

_Lonely._

Pepper squeezed her eyes shut and sighed. _It's a good thing you're moving out now, Virginia,_ she told herself. _Any longer and you won't be able to._

Her memories might be slowly returning, but part of Pepper wanted to stay where things were at least somewhat familiar.

_Oh, be honest. You don't like the idea of leaving him._

It wasn't just attraction, Pepper thought, opening her eyes again. It was worry too; Tony still needed looking after, and it went against the grain to leave him on his own. Especially now that he was in the habit of going out and taking on heavily armed hostiles, suit notwithstanding.

Tony's recovery from his last mission had been faster than she'd expected, though he'd been quiet and thoughtful for a couple of days. Pepper had been afraid that he would try to make something of those intimate, innocent moments together, but he'd seemed content to let them lie as they were, and they'd gone on as usual, working and planning. He'd spent much of his free time working on suit repair and redesign, anyway. Pepper had turned down his smirking invitation to share his hot tub as he soaked his bruises...but had found herself tempted nonetheless.

_Whatever happens between us...I want to take it slowly._

The influx of random memory had slowed over the past week, and Pepper figured that her mind was settling down to a status quo. As she'd told Tony, she had to deal with things as they were, not as they used to be. And while she might yet move back to the mansion in the end, for now--

Pepper's eyes widened as memory shouldered in.

_Leaning against Tony as he rested his hips against the counter and his hands on her ass, and the expression on his face was mingled pleasure and amusement, the lambent-eyed, lazy delight that she only ever saw when he was looking at her. "Marry me, Potts," he said, and it wasn't the first time he'd asked, if asked was the word. She laughed and brushed his lips against his, evading his attempt to make the kiss a real one. The humor disappeared, leaving just the intensity, and he slid his mouth towards her ear. "Forever, Pepper," he whispered. "I want forever."_

She blinked, struggling to focus, and sucked in air. _What--_

Pepper leaned against the counter, searching for more, but that was all there was. A wave of aching sadness swamped her, though she couldn't pinpoint its cause.

_I don't even know what my answer was._

* * *

"Is he sulking?" Rhodey whispered as they climbed the front stairs to the mansion.

Pepper shook her head. "Not quite. I think he wants to but he's...refraining."

Rhodey smirked, though it held an edge of sadness. "He's done a lot of growing up lately."

"So I'm learning." Pepper didn't give in to Rhodey's glance. She appreciated his support in her struggle to deal with her amnesia, but despite the fact that he'd volunteered to help her move, she knew he thought she should stay at the mansion. She had deliberately refrained from asking why.

"I still don't see why you didn't hire moving guys too," Rhodey said in a normal voice, opening the door for her.

Pepper glanced back at the rental truck parked in front of the house; she'd refused to let Tony "borrow" a Stark Industries vehicle for her. "Because I really don't have all that much stuff--it's mostly just boxes. Besides--" She waved ahead of them as they walked into the house. "Tony insisted on programming the 'bots to help."

Butterfingers was just rolling past on his way to the elevator, propelling a handtruck stacked with bundles and looking both ridiculous and efficient.

Rhodes laughed. "Of course he did. Hey, Big B, how's it going?"

The 'bot chirped at them but didn't pause, advancing smoothly into the elevator. "Where is Tony anyway?" Rhodes continued.

"Right here," Tony said dryly, emerging from the hallway leading to Pepper's room with a box in his arms. His expression was cheerful, but his eyes didn't meet theirs. "You here to work, platypus, or just supervise?"

Rhodes rolled his eyes and pulled off his sweatshirt, slinging it onto the couch. "You forgot who won the last bench-press battle, didn't you?" He jogged back in the direction from which Tony had come.

Pepper snickered and stepped out of Tony's way as he headed for the door. "I'll get a mop for the testosterone."

Tony gave her a wink over his shoulder. "Two guys at your beck and call--enjoy it while you've got it, Potts."

She shook her head and went to fetch a box herself.

She'd scheduled the Saturday morning so that they would have plenty of time, but between the five of them it actually took less than an hour to transfer her possessions to the truck. Unloading would take longer, since the 'bots weren't coming along, but Pepper had promised to buy Tony and Rhodey lunch if they gave her a hand.

_Though I don't think I could keep them from helping if I tried..._

Rhodey drove the loaded truck to Pepper's new apartment, with Pepper riding shotgun, the two of them trading moving horror stories. Tony drove himself, zipping in and out of traffic around them but somehow never outdistancing the truck despite his speed. Pepper flinched every so often, watching him play chicken with slower cars, but Tony was an expert driver and collected nothing more than a few indignant honks.

"He hasn't wrecked a car since '99," Rhodes said easily after Tony cut off an overloaded SUV. "He's got reflexes a fighter pilot would kill for."

"I know," Pepper murmured, watching the little sports car slip into their lane. "That doesn't mean he's not reckless."

"He's Tony." Rhodes shrugged.

"Mmm." Pepper settled back in her seat and kept an eye on the silver Audi, which stayed put for once, leading them on towards her new apartment. Once she'd chosen it Tony had insisted on vetting the building, but in the end he'd had to admit it was suitable; even Jarvis couldn't fault the security. And it was closer to the mansion than her old apartment, a mere ten minutes' drive if the traffic was good.

Plus, it had a freight elevator, which was definitely a good thing when one was hauling boxes, and Tony had been right about one thing--she hated moving. Pepper liked her life organized, and no matter how carefully she packed and coordinated, there was always a certain amount of chaos inherent in the moving process.

Still, between the three of them it didn't take long to get the boxes upstairs and neatly stacked along the walls.

Tony carried in the last one and set it down, then used the hem of his t-shirt to wipe his forehead. Pepper automatically glanced at the open door, but there was no one to see his arc implant glowing through his undershirt. "Where's Jimmy?" she asked.

"Flirting with one of your new neighbors," Tony said with another light grin. He wandered towards her kitchen. "You got anything to drink?"

"Check the fridge," Pepper said automatically. She'd stocked it with a few essentials earlier, and now Tony opened it and came out with a bottle of Perrier, which he regarded thoughtfully before removing the cap. "Where do you want to go for lunch?"

Tony swallowed his mouthful of water. "I'm easy--" he started, then glanced down at the beep coming from his hip. Sighing, he pulled the little phone free of its clip and opened it.

Pepper took a few steps away out of politeness, and to get out of blast range, but this time Tony's conversation with Fury was short and quiet. When Tony closed the device, she turned back.

"Just a meeting." Tony shrugged. "But I...have to go."

Pepper nodded, disappointed that he was going to miss lunch. She had been looking forward to the three of them eating together again--they didn't do it often enough. "Thanks for helping me move in." She didn't add _I know it was hard for you._

He laughed, an empty sound, and ran a hand through his hair. His face was held in pleasant lines, but the tautness of his mouth hinted at pain, and in the back of her mind Pepper heard his whispered plea. His tease was automatic. "Sure I can't change your mind?"

Pepper didn't really do things on impulse. She preferred to plan, to consider, to choose out of calmness. But, occasionally, she let herself do something without thinking first. Lifting a hand, she stepped forward and cupped his cheek. "Tony...keep trying."

His eyes widened, and lit. Slowly, as if afraid she would pull back, he turned his head enough to brush his lips over the heel of her hand.

The sensation, tickling warmth, made goosebumps rise all over her body, and Pepper let her hand drop. Tony's phone beeped again, and he squeezed his eyes shut, said a very bad word, and whirled, heading rapidly for the door. As he reached it, he glanced back, gaze incandescent. "I'm going to hold you to that, Potts."

Then he was gone, jogging out of sight, saying something she couldn't quite make out in response to Rhodey's startled query.

Pepper cocked her head, then picked up the bottle cap he'd left behind and tossed it into the trash. Her skin was still tingling, and an odd, unfamiliar delight made her lips turn up.

Rhodes came in the open door, tucking a scrap of paper into his pocket and smirking. "No Tin Man for lunch, huh?"

Pepper shook her head at him. "Does that make you the Scarecrow?"

Rhodes' smile went wry at the reminder of her memory loss, but he shrugged. "Sometimes."

"I suppose I'm Dorothy." Pepper snickered, amused at the image. "There's drinks in the fridge."

"If I remember right, Butterfingers ended up being Toto," Rhodey said, peering into the refrigerator. "Tony threatened to put a bow on him."

Pepper regarded the man now twisting open a bottle of Coke, her earlier pleasure dissipating into melancholy. She couldn't remember whatever conversation had prompted the series of silly jokes, but she could imagine it, the three of them chatting and teasing, Rhodey's face creased with amusement, Tony's eyes gleaming with wicked mischief.

Had she rolled her eyes, she wondered, or laughed and joined in?

Rhodes took a long drink, then glanced over at her, sobering. "He used to joke that you gave him his heart, not the Wizard. He never would explain it, though."

_A glass box._

Pepper turned away and felt for her keys. "Let's go get some lunch."


	12. Chapter 12

The house was too damned _empty._

Tony wandered morosely around the mansion, too restless to settle anywhere. Pepper had been moved out for a week, and the place was echoing and lonely without her. He _hated_ it.

He'd seen her new apartment exactly twice, and it had only depressed him further. It was big and lovely and fitted her exactly. Her furniture had been delivered safely, and she'd bought all the little essentials necessary to life. Her bruises were gone entirely and she had a clean bill of health from her doctor despite the memory loss.

Unfortunately, he hadn't been able cite his own desperation as a legitimate reason for her to stay with him.

Tony had done his best to behave. Pepper had even let him take her out to dinner once, completely separate from work. He wasn't sure it counted as a date, since all she did was kiss him on the cheek, but he wasn't going to complain. Not after the hope she'd given him the day she'd left.

Or, for that matter, after the Perrier he'd found in her fridge, five bottles. Pepper hated the stuff, but she knew he loved it...

Of course, she also spent at least three evenings a week at the mansion finishing things up, but that was par for the course for her job, and Tony was careful not to make more of that than it seemed. It was enough that she was willing to eventually kick off her shoes and joke with him, and make him eat whatever she ordered in.

He had planned one evening where he would shut off her computer and prepare dinner for them both himself, but a mission had gotten in the way...though finding Pepper waiting for him when he'd gotten back at last had been wonderful even if he wasn't injured enough to need much care.

Still, she wasn't _there_ , and it was making him miserable. Tony prowled into the master bedroom. _Their_ bed was still neatly made, the sheets fresh--Severin changed them every week whether someone slept there or not. But her share of the drawers was empty now and her side of the closet bare. All that was left was the shoe rack.

Tony took himself out of that depressing space and found his way to her home office. This at least looked more normal, and he poked around a little, sparing a breath of dry laughter when he found the paper clips in the second drawer down on the left.

The three big white archival boxes stacked in the closet, he hadn't seen before. Not even bothering to try to resist, Tony took the lid off the top one and peered inside.

Notebooks, the fancy kind sold in bookstores--hard covers bound in various patterns and fabrics. Curious, he pulled one out and flipped it open at random.

The pages were filled with Pepper's neat script, each section dated. Tony turned back to the first page; the entry there was labeled January 2, 2008.

It didn't take him long to figure out that the books were her personal diaries. He vaguely knew that she kept one, he'd seen her writing in it from time to time after she'd moved in, but it wasn't something he'd asked about. Tony paged through the volume he held, curiosity far surpassing any sense of invading her privacy. And it was _fascinating_ to see himself through her eyes, though half the time she was complaining about him in one fashion or another. This was Pepper before they'd become lovers, before he'd been kidnapped--and he was surprised to see how much of her life seemed to be taken up with him in one way or another.

Surprised, and both guilty and pleased...

Tony skimmed through the volume, skipping entries that didn't interest him for one reason or another, lingering over others. The book only covered two months, and when he was done with it Tony replaced it.

Hesitated--

Then reached for another.

Three hours later he was sitting on the floor outside the closet in a semicircle of piled notebooks, and one box was empty and the next only half-full. The volumes had been packed according to size rather than date, so every time he dipped in for another one Tony didn't know what month or year it would reveal. It was a strange and somewhat painful exercise; he was learning more about Pepper with every page, and yet she was further from him now than ever before. He was so absorbed that he hadn't even thought about what she might do if she found out he'd gone through her private journals--

_I'm in love with my boss._

The simple words froze him. For a moment Tony simply stared at the line sitting at the bottom of the page, and then his eyes went back to check the date of this little revelation.

June 5th, 2005.

Tony became aware that he was panting, that his chest was aching with a sharp pain. _June fifth. June fifth June fifth--_

Jarvis' words were echoing in his ears. _The loss of memory sometimes extends to a particular traumatic event in the sufferer's past._

Pepper's subconscious had erased her memory clear back to the day before she'd realized she was in love with him.

He'd thought he'd known what it felt to have his heart break, both figuratively and literally. But this pain was worse. _Loving me is so traumatic that her own brain made her forget it._

Tony stood, feeling as though _his_ brain were numbing down towards shutoff, and walked blindly out of Pepper's office, straight to the liquor cabinet in the dining room. The big room was free of dust thanks to Severin's attentions, but it felt chilly and empty; but Tony ignored the sensations.

It wasn't until he had the glass out that he realized he still had Pepper's diary clenched in his hand.

Tony gazed at the notebook with dull eyes, and shrugged. _Fuck it._ Ignoring the glass, he picked up the unopened bottle of scotch and retreated.

* * *

It was a quiet evening, and that suited Pepper just fine.

She had Steve Abshire on the stereo, a glass of wine, and workout clothes worn to softness, and she was breaking in her new armchair, which was large enough for her to curl up in. It had been a long week and a longer Friday, and it felt good to just sit and relax and think of nothing more complex than the mystery within the pages of her paperback.

So, of course, the phone rang.

She almost let it go to voice mail. But her conscience stepped in and made her lean over and pick up the handset, though it didn't keep her from brusqueness. "Yes?"

"Pepper, your presence is required at the house."

She hadn't been expecting Jarvis' voice; she didn't remember ever getting a phone call from him before, though probably she had. Pepper sighed and glanced wistfully towards her glass. "What's he up to now? Another mission?"

"No. Tony's vital signs indicate that he is asleep or unconscious, but he was highly agitated during the last hour."

Pepper sat up straight, absently dropping her book onto the table next to her seat. "Why? What's happened?"

"I am not certain." Jarvis sounded concerned. "He forbade me to call anyone, but I am instituting an emergency override given his current condition."

She was already rising, concern swelling towards fear. _I've only had half a glass of wine, I'm good to drive._ "I'll be there as soon as I can."

As she drove to the mansion, Pepper reviewed the situation. Rhodes was out of town and Happy had taken three days off to attend his niece's wedding, so she was on her own. She bit her lip in the strobing darkness of the highway, wondering what had happened to upset Tony.

The house was quiet and dark when she stepped inside. "Jarvis, where is he?"

"Tony is in his workshop," the AI answered. "His condition is unchanged."

The garage lights were dim when she walked down the stairs, which was peculiar, but Pepper could make out the glow of Tony's arc implant--he was lying on the battered couch, apparently face-up. "Tony?"

There was no answer. But before she made it halfway there, Pepper could smell the alcohol, and it made her stomach twist. She'd never liked his drinking, but she hadn't seen him have more than one drink of anything at a time since she'd come back from the hospital. Her instincts were shouting that something was very wrong.

As she neared the motionless figure, Pepper could see two bottles on the floor. One was empty; the other was on its side in a puddle of what seemed to be vodka, with more alcohol on the outside than there was left inside. _What happened?_

The first thing that came to mind was that something had happened to Rhodes. Beginning to be frightened, Pepper approached the couch and reached down to shake Tony's shoulder. "Tony!"

His hands twitched and his eyes opened, barely perceptible in the dark. "Potts," came the slurring voice, dull and low.

"Are you all right?" Pepper asked, worried. "Jarvis, give us half-light."

The overhead illumination brightened enough for her to make out details, though Tony winced. He looked appalling--eyes bloodshot, mouth a hard line despite his intoxication. And there was something terribly wrong, she could feel it even if she had no idea what it was.

When their gazes met, he rolled his head away, as though her stare hurt him. "Tony, what's the _matter_?"

He shook his head the tiniest bit. "Go 'way."

Pepper knelt down next to the couch. "Not until you tell me what's going on." She steeled herself for tragedy, disaster, heartbreak--she couldn't remember ever seeing him quite like this. "Did something happen to Jimmy?"

His cough might be interpreted as humor, if one were feeling generous. "Nah." His hand lifted, gestured vaguely. "'S you."

Pepper cocked her head. _Me? Just how drunk is he? "_ I'm fine, Tony."

He muttered something she couldn't make out, though it sounded like "conscience". Relieved that it wasn't anything she'd imagined, but still worried, Pepper reached out to capture that restless hand in hers.

As soon as her fingers folded around his, though, Tony pulled away with a strength that his drunkenness belied. _"No."_

Surprised and a little hurt, Pepper firmed her lips and her voice. "Mr. Stark. What is going _on?"_

He struggled up until his head was leaning against the arm of the couch and turned a hard stare on her. "You. I'm wrong."

Pepper shook her head. "Tony, you're not making any sense."

"I'm _wrong_." He managed a point at her. "For you." A little clarity seemed to come back to him. "You forgot me."

She sat back on her heels and tried to interpret. "I didn't forget _you._ I just forgot some time."

"Yes you did." Tony hiccupped softly and looked away again. "I'm wrong. 'M bad for you. You should...you should go away."

Pepper had seen Tony drunk many times, and extremely drunk more often than she cared to think about, but he was rarely incoherent, and certainly never tried to make her leave. _What triggered this?_ She'd read enough of her own notes to know that his drinking had slacked off considerably ever since he'd gotten back from Afghanistan, so logic indicated that something had to have sent him on this binge.

"What happened tonight?" she asked him, probing.

Tony shrugged one shoulder. "I found out. June fi...fifff. Fifth."

Pepper frowned. The date didn't bring anything immediately to mind, though she was sourly aware that the most recent of those dates were still missing from her recall. "Jarvis? What was Tony doing earlier?"

The AI's response was grave. "He was looking through the boxes in your office closet."

It took her a minute to remember _which_ boxes--she'd forgotten to move them to her new apartment. _My diaries?_

Tony was looking at her again, and his eyes were filled with a despairing pain she'd never seen before. It tore at her heart, made her breath come hard. With a sudden energy, he reached up, grabbing her shoulders. Pepper froze in shock as he pulled her down, and his mouth landed on hers in a strange hard kiss.

He tasted of salt and vodka, and the clumsy clash of teeth made her head pound and a peculiar ache spring up in the middle of her chest. Pepper didn't fight the kiss, too stunned and dizzy to even move.

Tony pulled back, his hands falling away. "You shouldn't love me," he said quietly, the words quite clear, and with that he passed out, slumping back down to the couch.

Pepper's ears were ringing, louder and louder. Salt on her lips, desperation, pressure--her chest _hurt._ She tried to push to her feet, but only succeeded in sliding backward, her vision fading as her world turned upside down again.

All the memories she'd regained so far had been slipped under the door of her amnesia. But now a key turned, and the door swung wide, and the tide rose up around her, a flashing, living, noisy kaleidoscope of impressions, voices, scents and tastes, events, joy and sorrow and simple solid facts. Pepper collapsed to the cold floor of the garage, curling up tight and clutching her head with both hands as it threatened to split open under a rush her consciousness was never intended to handle.

It went on and on, all the missing bits piling up and slotting into place, filling the empty places to bursting. _Oh oh oh--_ So much was becoming clear, but she didn't have time to process it, more memories kept coming, and coming--

_Blistering sunburn doctor's appointments grocery shopping Tony's stunned look when she told him she loved him surfing playing tag with Butterfingers new computer office renovations bad cold Tony's broken wrist fire in the hills board meetings charity balls dancing with Tony in a tux making love on the terrace empty mansion Obadiah smiling Happy's vacation arguing with Tony Jimmy teasing her tasting watermelon making stir-fry resting in Tony's embrace meeting Fury driving walking running sand beneath her shoes--_

_Turning in her apartment keys and Tony's arm slipping around her waist as she left the building for the last time._

_Shaking hands with the tall woman who had succeeded Obadiah as Stark Industries' CFO._

_The nondescript little man rising from his seat, and her surge of relief at seeing him, knowing that Stane would not dare harm her in front of him. "Your office._ _**Righ** t _ _now--"_

_Waiting in the sun as Tony refused a wheelchair and walked out of the plane on Rhodes' arm, and biting back her tears of joy._

_A crowded balcony, beautiful drunk people all around her and fireworks exploding in the sky, and seeing one stream of sparks that faded with distance rather than brevity, and not knowing whether to be proud or angry._

_Wobbling in the air above the assembly platform, power in her palms and under her soles, Tony whooping below and shouting encouragement as he taught her how to fly--_

Somehow she managed not to lose her grip, and eventually the cascade sank to a trickle, then ceased. For a long while Pepper held still, trying to assimilate what she'd regained, trying to steady her breathing. Her mouth tasted of iron where she'd bitten her lip. The influx was dizzying to the point of madness, almost, but the ringing was gone, leaving a blessed silence in its wake.

Her head still ached a little, and it felt too big, but the missing pieces were _back._ It was an _incredible_ relief to feel whole again.

"Ms. Potts?" Jarvis asked softly. "Are you well? Your vital signs have become quite unstable."

Pepper took a deep breath and uncurled, lying stunned against the cold concrete. "I...I'm okay, Jarvis." Her voice sounded normal, and that surprised her. "I seem to have...to have regained my memory."

"Congratulations," the AI said, sounding pleased. "I hope you will allow me to document your progress for further study."

Pepper bit back a groan and managed to sit up. "Ask me tomorrow," she muttered, her eyes fixed on the beloved form of Tony limp on the couch. _Dear God. What has he been going through?_

It was a rhetorical question, since she could pretty much figure it out from what she remembered of the past two months, and Pepper felt a surge of guilt even though she knew it wasn't her fault. "Tony--"

He didn't move. Pepper sagged against the sofa, shuddering; the concrete had chilled her, and she felt drained dry and dizzy. _His greatest fear is that those he loves will leave him. And that's exactly what I did._

She wanted his arms around her so badly that it hurt, an actual physical pain, but Tony was beyond responding at the moment.

"What the hell happened?" she whispered. "Jarvis, what's the significance of June fifth?"

"I do not know," the AI replied. "But the reason may lie in the notebook he was reading just prior to his drinking."

Pepper didn't bother wondering why Tony had been into her diaries; the man was as curious as a cat and had about as much self-restraint. She looked around, and after a moment spotted the book wedged between his side and the back of the couch. Leaning over his motionless form, she pulled it free and paged through it to the relevant date.

It only took a moment to read what she'd written there, and a moment more to work out the conclusion Tony must have drawn. _Oh._

Wearily Pepper closed the diary and leaned her head against his hip, and when she started to choke she covered her face with her hands. Her weeping was for herself, for Tony, for the incredible mess they'd managed to create. For the fact that all she wanted right then was his comfort.

She was so _tired._

Her sobs didn't last long, but when she was calm Pepper was almost too exhausted to move. Letting out a breath, she scrubbed her face dry with her sleeve, and contemplated standing. It was going to take more energy than she thought she had.

But the couch was wide.

"Jarvis," she managed, "don't let anyone disturb us short of an emergency." With an effort, Pepper slid onto the sofa and draped herself over Tony, shivering anew as his heat soaked into her. The arc reactor was a comforting pressure against her chest, and Tony muttered something and shifted, one arm coming up to wrap around her waist.

Pepper sighed, worked a hand underneath him and draped the other over his shoulder, and just _held_ him.

* * *

Something was right.

Tony didn't know yet just what it was, but then he wasn't too eager to wake, either. He let himself drift just short of focused consciousness, because it was a feeling that had been missing for a long time and he didn't want to lose it when he opened his eyes.

But sleep ebbed away despite his best efforts, and things came into focus. The smell of alcohol, the lumpiness of the couch...the warm weight snuggled up next to him...

 _Okay, I'm dreaming._ Because the other scent in his nostrils was Pepper's own sweet vanilla-and-woman, and he knew that the last thing she would do right now was sleep in his arms. _Well, one of the last things._

But his head ached and his mouth was dry, and her chin was digging into his chest, and really it felt far too real to be a dream. _What the hell did I do?_

Alcohol didn't normally make him forget, any more than it usually gave him a hangover; his tolerance was far too high. But last night was something of a blur all the same. _How much did I drink?_

_And what_ _did_ _I do?_

Tony tensed. Had he pushed her too far in his inebriated state? No, that didn't make sense, she wouldn't still be _there._

And then the memory came clear. June 5th, 2005.

The pain made him want to shove her away and run. He opened his eyes slowly.

Pepper lay between him and the back of the couch, her face half-obscured by a tousled mop of strawberry hair. One of her arms lay over his side, and the other was folded against his chest; and, Tony realized, his own arms were holding her close to him. He didn't move for a long while, wondering dimly why she was there, but mostly caught up in the agony of knowing that he was going to have to let her go.

_If you don't do it soon, you won't be able to._

Slowly Tony began to ease back, trying to slip his arm out from under Pepper without waking her. She had always been a light sleeper, however, and she stirred and sighed, rubbing her forehead against his chest.

Tony froze, hoping that she would fall back to sleep, but instead Pepper's eyes opened, and she peered up at him through the tangles of her hair. The smile that spread over her face made his heart spasm with yearning, and automatically he lifted his free hand to brush the hair from her eyes. "Pepper--"

With simple grace she leaned forward and kissed him. Tony jerked, but the touch of her lips was too much, and he moaned and kissed her back, his body and his starving heart overwhelming his guilt. She was warm and eager and familiar and so _right,_ and he wanted to devour her right then and there--

_No._

He tore his mouth from hers, feeling the separation as if she were truly part of his own flesh. "Stop," he gasped. "Pepper, you--I _can't_. _"_

Her brows went up, and Tony braced one hand on the back of the couch, pushing up and away before his body could betray him again. He staggered back, head spinning with the sudden movement, and found his balance with an effort.

Pepper blinked at him, propping herself up on one elbow. "Tony--"

" _No."_ He spun around so he wouldn't have to look at her. She couldn't understand, how could she understand, he didn't know how to explain--she'd finally trusted him with herself and he couldn't-- _Pepper_ \--

Those strong, fine-boned hands--he'd always loved her hands--slid around his ribs and up his chest, and Pepper leaned into him from behind, a sweet weight that had him clenching his fists and holding very still. "Stop it, Stark," she said, low and patient and bafflingly amused. "I know what you're thinking and it just doesn't apply."

He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut, not understanding her words. "I'm wrong. Pepper, you lost _four years_ because of me."

"Bullshit." Her tone was suddenly crisp. "Tony, I got my memory back. I remember now." Her arms tightened at his start of surprise. "And it came back because of _you._ "

He felt her lips press against the nape of his neck in a brief caress. "I love you, you idiot. No matter what. And if you think for one second that I'm going to give you up _now_ \--"

The room swam back into focus. Tony covered her hands with his, then turned in her embrace. Pepper's eyes were clear, the doubt gone, and her smile was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

_Oh._

He didn't even bother wondering how she knew. If he'd been the noble type, Tony thought briefly, he might have argued, but he was a selfish SOB and always would be. He touched her face with trembling fingers, felt the velvet of her skin, and gave her that long-waiting kiss--drunk-breath, morals, and amnesia be damned.

Pepper purred against his mouth, and Tony wrapped her up in his arms, tight, tighter. His throat swelled, and he shifted to press his face into her hair, choking on a sob as the anguish drained away and joy rose to fill its place. Pepper hugged him close, easing him through the spasm, and he felt the rip in his heart healing at last.

"I love you. I love you," he muttered. "Pepper..."

She laughed, the sound a pure echo of his bliss. Tony bent and scooped her up, heading automatically for the elevator. Pepper relaxed against him, her hand resting over his arc implant, and kissed the hollow of his throat. He shuddered at the touch.

Tony stepped into the car, and Pepper reached over to punch the right button. As soon as it lit, he pulled her close in again, unbearably hungry for the feel of her. Pepper let her hand slide up around his neck, and Tony clutched her until she squeaked and laughed again. "Sorry," he muttered into the crown of her head.

"Shut up," she murmured fondly, and he shivered as he felt her fingers slide into his hair.

There was so much he wanted to say to her, questions he wanted to ask, but he couldn't seem to organize the words. Instead, he carried Pepper out of the elevator and to _their_ room, and sat down on _their_ bed, still holding her tightly.

She smiled at him, and squirmed around until she was straddling his lap, and kissed him with great concentration. Tony filled his hands with her hair and her skin, kissing her hard, taking her mouth as an offering and a desperately desired prize. He felt as though he could never get enough of her, taste or smell or sweet sensation--

He was trembling again, and Pepper let his mouth go and stroked his hair back from his forehead. "I love you," she repeated, and pushed him gently down to the mattress. Tony looked up at her leaning over him, his Pepper healed and whole and knowing him once more, and pulled her down to him.

He took his time proving his love to her, and every second was joy, because she was _real._ Because she knew him.

Because she loved him back.

* * *

It seemed incredible, afterwards, that she could have forgotten so much, and Pepper had to struggle to push away the guilt. _It wasn't your fault,_ she reminded herself, feeling Tony's warm breath where his head lay on her breast. _And it wasn't his either._ Though she had the feeling it would take a lot of work to get him to stop thinking that it was.

"I don't _know_ why my brain picked that date," she repeated, rubbing small circles on his bare shoulder. He had one arm beneath her hips, but his free hand moved over her skin slowly, reverently, as he tried to appease his hunger. "Seriously, Tony, it wasn't _traumatic._ "

He turned his head to look at her. The return of her memory had released his long strain, but the effects lingered in the corners of his eyes and mouth, and Pepper let her fingers smooth over his temple. Tony sighed at the touch, but the quirk of his lips held doubt.

"Four years is a long time, Pepper. Jarvis said--"

"Jarvis doesn't know everything," Pepper interrupted gently. "Did you even read the rest of the entry?"

Tony blinked. "No..."

"Let me up." She wriggled, and after a moment Tony rolled off and let her sit up. Pepper kissed him lightly and slid out of bed, going to the closet for his robe and wrapping it around herself. "I'll be right back."

She half-thought he would follow her, but he managed to stay put as she walked out of the room. Pepper padded down the stairs to the chilly workshop, luxuriating in the smell of Tony embedded in the robe and wondering if she could talk him into a mutual shower--or better yet, a bath. "What time is it, Jarvis?" she asked, bending to pick up the diary from where she'd let it fall.

"It is 2:06 A.M.," Jarvis replied. "Your vital signs are in much better order, Pepper."

"I'm not surprised." Pepper grinned to herself. She was still tired, and her head felt a little strange, but none of that mattered in light of regaining her memories. "Maintain current privacy level, Jarvis. And don't disturb us unless you have to."

"Acknowledged." The AI's tone hinted at contentment, but Pepper didn't stop to wonder at it. If she didn't get back upstairs soon, Tony would come looking for her, and she wanted him to stay in bed, warm and safe.

He was sitting on the edge of the mattress when she returned, as if on the point of getting up, and the relief on his face when he saw her was palpable. He held out a hand, and Pepper offered the diary, but he just tossed it on the bed and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her between his knees and pressing his face against her stomach.

Pepper held him close. Tony had done a good job of concealing his distress over the past weeks, but she knew that he'd been hurting. She swallowed back guilt again and ruffled his hair, and Tony sighed and loosened his grip, tilting his head back to look up at her. "I missed you," he said, his voice low and tired.

The vulnerability in his face put a lump in her throat, and Pepper stroked those strong black brows, ran a finger down his nose. "I missed you too," she told him. "I just didn't know it."

Tony kissed her finger, and undid the knot in the robe's sash with one jerk. Pepper shrugged out of the garment and let him draw her back down to the bed, settling into the curve of his arm when he sat back against the headboard. "Here." She picked up her diary and handed it to him. "Take a look."

Tony opened the notebook with his free hand, thumbing through to the June entries, and Pepper laid her head on his shoulder as he frowned at the page. She already knew what was written there.

_June 5th. I'm in love with my boss._

And at the top of the next page-- _This has been coming a long time, I think. At least, it's not much of a surprise. It might be a problem, but he'll never notice, and I like my job._

_He's_ **_impossible_ ** _. It'll be a good antidote._

Tony groaned and covered his face with the open notebook. "This is supposed to make me feel _better?_ "

Pepper snickered. "No trauma, Tony. Sorry, but you're definitely innocent in this case."

He lowered the book and smiled at her, warm and rueful. "Am I still impossible?"

Her snicker turned into a laugh, and she smothered it against his lips. "Yes, you are." She kissed him again. "And I wouldn't change that for anything."

"Good," Tony mumbled through his grin, and pulled her back into his arms, scooting them down to lie flat. Pepper sighed and rested her hand on his arc implant, and he swallowed hard.

"My guess," she said after a while, "is that my subconscious decided to take me back to a time when my life held a little less stress. _Stress,_ Tony, not trauma." She ran one finger around the implant casing--lightly, so as not to trouble his scars. "And it's not like you're responsible for my heart. At least, you weren't then."

Tony's hand slid up between her breasts to rest over the heart in question. "I am now."

The statement was firm, and Pepper smiled. Tony rubbed his chin against her hair. "I'm sorry about--earlier."

"Hmm?" She lifted herself up on one elbow to look at him, but he wouldn't meet her eyes.

"Earlier. Downstairs. When you got your memory back." His cheeks were pink, and she realized that he was ashamed--ashamed of being dead drunk when her cascade had occurred.

Pepper regarded him for a long moment, then shook her head. "You don't remember--no, I guess you wouldn't." She touched his cheek, making him face her. "I told you my memory returned because of you. You kissed me, Tony, and that's what brought it all back."

It hadn't been a very pleasant kiss, but Pepper suspected that was part of why it had worked. She still couldn't remember Tony forcing air into her waterlogged lungs, and she hoped she never _did_ remember that, but it was pretty clear that his clumsy, desperate press of lips had been the key in the lock.

 _If he hadn't been drinking, he wouldn't have kissed me._ And while Pepper didn't think her memories would have stayed hidden forever, it could have been much longer before they'd returned. _What might have happened to us in the meantime?_

Tony didn't look entirely convinced, but when she shivered at the thought, he pulled her back down, surrounding her with himself as if to protect her from all the world. Pepper cuddled closer, breathing in his scent.

There was so much to do, she knew. They had a relationship to repair, and two lives to deal with, and she suspected it would take some pounding to get through Tony's skull the fact that she didn't blame him for any of what had happened.

But then, she had time. They both did.

Pepper was drifting towards sleep when one more thought made her eyes snap open. _"Dammit."_

Tony jerked. "What? What is it?"

Pepper sighed again. "Now I have to _repack_. And do something with my apartment." She groaned. "I _hate_ moving."

There was a breath of silence, and then Tony began to laugh helplessly, shaking the bed with the force of his amusement. Pepper rolled over to look at him, smiling in response despite her annoyance. "What?"

He shook his head. "I _told_ you so."

It took her a moment to remember, and then Pepper rolled her eyes. With a quick shove, she laid Tony flat on his back, pinning his wrists to the mattress. "Smartass."

He grinned, unrepentant, and Pepper all but melted at the _rightness_ of it all. "You betcha."

And then he was kissing her again, and that was all that mattered.


	13. Epilogue

"I still don't know what happened to my current diary," Pepper complained, rummaging through her desk for what felt like the hundredth time.

Tony, leaning in the home-office doorway with his arms folded, shrugged. "It'll turn up eventually. Did you check the bookshelves in the bedroom?"

"At least six times." Pepper frowned and straightened. "Blast."

Three weeks after her memory cascade, she was still finding the occasional blank spot in her recall, which Jarvis assured her was normal. Pepper didn't let it worry her too much, but the missing diary didn't fall into that category.

"Just start a new one," her lover suggested. "It's probably hiding out of spite."

Pepper sniffed, lips twitching at his grin. "If I find out you hid it, Stark--"

Tony held up both hands. "Hey, no way. Seriously." Pushing away from the doorframe, he walked over to her and pulled her into his arms. "Come on, Pepper. Let it go for now. I'm hungry and you promised we could go out for lunch."

Sighing with contentment, Pepper leaned against him, resting her hands on his hips. "It's only ten o'clock, Tony."

His grin didn't lessen. "So?"

Pepper regarded him for a long moment, thinking. The man smiling at her, her boss, her lover, her friend--she knew him inside and out, from both directions. The last couple of months had forced her to some hard decisions, but they had also proven some things--like love, and trustworthiness.

And he'd kept _asking._ With a patience and a certainty that had surprised her.

Tony's smile softened and he raised his brows. "What?"

"I just remembered something," Pepper said, smirking at him. "Several somethings, in fact. Okay, I'll marry you."

His poleaxed gape was worth a great deal, she thought in the few seconds before his hug picked her up off her feet and made her squeak with its tightness. _"Really?"_

"If you haven't changed your mind," she managed, grabbing his shoulders for balance and still smirking. "Tony--"

His eyes were brilliant as he looked up at her, and then he pulled her down into a kiss that tasted of relief and joy. When her feet found the floor again, Tony released her, grabbing her hand. "Come on, Potts."

"Wait--what? Where are we going?" She let him pull her out into the hall.

"To pick up a license, obviously. Can you call Rhodey?" His grin was just this side of manic, and Pepper started to laugh.

"You want to get married right _now?_ "

Tony stopped and looked back. "Hell _yeah._ You said yes, I'm not giving you a chance to change _your_ mind." He hesitated. "Unless--do you want a big wedding and all that? Because I'll do anything you want, really, I just--"

Pepper smiled, and put her free hand over his lips. "I believe," she said, feeling amused and solemn and ecstatic all at once, "that the county courthouses are open until at least 3 P.M."

"No time to waste then," he said against her fingers, and kissed them. "Let's go!"

Laughing, she followed him out.

**End.**


End file.
